Alchemy Is NOT Magic, Damn It!
by The Mirror Above the Sink
Summary: Well, here he was, at this idiotic school called Frogwarts - ahem, Hogwarts. Seeing as this place is supposedly magical, Ed had no clue why the Fuhrer felt it necessary to send him here. But maybe, just maybe, he'd finally find a way to get his brother's body back without a Philosopher's Stone... and maybe he'd finally be able to act like a kid. (Semi-AU)
1. Arrival

_**This is obviously going to be a semi-AU, where Ed has been in the military since he was ten - still with automail - Hughes is alive, Al is still armor, and Amestris and England are in the same world. I haven't really read the Harry Potter books recently - a few months ago, at best - so I hope most of this is accurate. And I'll try to make every chapter as long as this one, but no guarantees. And the quality is definitely not a guarantee. This took me hours to write - more than one day of writing, that's for sure. Some parts may be better written than others. It depended on my mood and amount of sleep I got the night before. Considering I never really get much sleep, I can almost promise bad quality. But please be patient with me, and thank you in advance for giving this story a go. I'll try to explain everything inside the story, but if needed, I'll answer questions after the chapter on the post-author's note.**_

* * *

Edward Elric sighed as he repeatedly kicked the seat in front of him. He usually would've gotten an annoyed or nasty look, if the seat was occupied. But he was the only one on this train, strangely enough. Nobody seemed to want to visit England these days. Though _why_ he was going to England was a whole different story.

* * *

 _FLASHBACK:_

 _"What the Hell, Colonel? I'm eleven! Understand? No way in HELL am I old enough to travel across the world just because some shitty school thought I would make a fantastic fucking wizard!"_

 _"I'm afraid you don't have a choice on the matter," Roy said calmly, his hands folded in front of him. "The Fuhrer himself offered you up for it, and you've already been accepted by the school. Besides, you've traveled pretty far away from home before, haven't you?" He had his usual smug grin on his face, making Ed want to punch him even more._

 _"But what about Al?" he blurted. The first thing that came to mind. Roy's face became a little more serious._

 _"Alphonse will be staying here, under Hughes' watch. He'll be protected carefully, because I'm sure he's made almost as many enemies as you've made."_

 _"But-!"_

 _"That's final. Go pack up your belongings."_

* * *

And that was how Ed ended up on a stupid train, riding halfway across the world to attend a stupid magical school called Frogwarts. He glanced at the envelope stuffed with papers Roy had given him. It was addressed to;

 _'Edward Elric_

 _Central, dorm room #26_

 _Amestris'_

He thought it was an odd way to put an address. Then again, Roy had told him the letter arrived with a large barn owl while he was away, so it may not have been that strange. Roy complained that the darn thing wouldn't leave until he wrote back saying that Ed was going. He opened up the thick envelope and pulled out the first paper.

 **'Dear Mr. Elric,**

 **We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

 **Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 **Minerva McGonagall**

 **Deputy Headmistress'**

 _Hogwarts_. What a stupid name. After digging through the envelope, he did indeed find a list of stuff he apparently needed to buy. Also, there was a specialized letter that was apparently handwritten by the Headmaster himself. He understood why he had this letter, but he was sure all the other teachers wouldn't know why and would probably be suspicious.

 **'I hereby give Edward Elric permission to wear gloves at all times. No student, Prefect, or Professor may tell him otherwise.**

 **-Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore'**

Ed didn't know what all the letters in the middle of Dumbledore's name stood for, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. There was one final paper, and he reluctantly pulled it out.

 _'_ **UNIFORM**

 **First-year students will require:**

 **1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)**

 **2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear**

 **3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)**

 **4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)**

 **Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.**

 **COURSE BOOKS**

 **All students should have a copy of each of the following:**

 **The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)** **by Miranda Goshawk**

 **A History of Magic** **by Bathilda Bagshot**

 **Magical Theory** **by Adalbert Waffling**

 **A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration** **by Emeric Switch**

 **One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi** **by Phyllida Spore**

 **Magical Drafts and Potions** **by Arsenius Jigger**

 **Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them** **by Newt Scamander**

 **The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection** **by Quentin Trimble**

 **OTHER EQUIPMENT**

 **1 wand**

 **1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)**

 **1 set glass or crystal phials**

 **1 telescope**

 **1 set brass scales**

 **Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.**

 **PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 **Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus**

 **Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions'**

He put the parchment to the side, already tired of hearing about magic and how he would be learning the shit over the course of nine months. He wanted to just deny the fact that magic existed, but Al had seemed so excited about the prospect of Ed going back to school that he couldn't bring himself to refuse to go. He was told by Mustang that this country spoke a language called English, so he pulled out a translating book and started to study English. Though he had a niggling doubt in the back of his mind that he was forgetting something.

* * *

After a boring three or four days of travelling, all by himself with no other passengers aboard the train, Ed stepped off at a train station that was apparently close to where he had been instructed to go. The station he arrived in was a boring place, not even a full building. It was only a sturdy wooden platform with 'Train Station' painted on a big wooden board. Ed almost turned to leave, but spotted a strange old man standing in the corner, a smile on his wrinkly, bearded face. Ed paused, regarding the man silently, but eventually decided that this must be Dumbledore and walked over.

"Hello," he said politely, speaking English, which he had managed to learn quickly, as he was a genius. Though he kept a slight accent, which he thought made him seem cooler. "You're Dumbledore, correct?"

"Hello, Edward," Dumbledore greeted back. "And yes, I am Albus Percival Wilfric Brian Dumbledore. I see you've made it. A bit ahead of schedule, but that's alright." He turned and stepped off of the platform as the train sped away. Ed hopped off after him, swinging his suitcase in his hand.

"So... this place I'll be staying at. It isn't at a hotel, is it?" Ed asked, quickening his pace to walk beside Dumbledore. The old man let out a short laugh.

"No, my boy. You'll be staying with a family of wizards that I happen to know very well. They have already agreed to take you in for the time being, as they have taken in many others at my request." Ed nodded slowly, not sure if he could totally trust the old wizard. "You'll be going with them to shop for school supplies. They should be a great help to you when that time comes," Dumbledore added. Ed just bobbed his head again, not very sure of what to say. The two walked in silence for a while, until an old, run-down house came into view. To Ed, it looked shaky, like somebody had just kept adding on to a one-story house until anything else would make it collapse. He noted to himself that it was probably held up by magic.

"And here we are," said Dumbledore grandly, stopping in front of the gate around it. A sign read 'THE BURROW', making Ed curiously tilt his head. Dumbledore shifted his hands around in his dark robes, then pulled out yet another letter (Ed groaned to himself, tired of parchment already) and handed it to Ed. "Be sure that Mrs. Weasley gets this, and that Mr. Weasley knows about it," Dumbledore instructed. "Now, I shall be off." He disappeared with a 'pop', making Ed jump in surprise. But before he could comment, a clatter came from inside the house, telling him that somebody inside had heard the noise. The door opened, and a slightly plump, red-haired lady stood at the doorway, a broom in hand. Ed was slightly thankful that his short stature let him hide behind the gate before he was noticed. _Not that he was short, damn it!_ The lady glanced around, looking confused for a second, until her sharp eyes caught the glint of blond hair hiding behind her fence.

"I see you over there!" Mrs. Weasley barked, stomping over. The blond head straightened quickly, and she saw that the hair belonged to a young boy that looked to be about Ron's age, if not younger.

"I'm sorry, miss! I just- well, I-"

"Spit it out, boy!" Mrs. Weasley commanded. The boy flinched at the loudness of her voice, then whipped out his hand, which held the letter firmly in his fingers. Mrs. Weasley took it gently from his trembling hand and opened it slowly.

"Dumbledore said you were expecting me, Mrs. Weasley," Ed said quietly, slightly terrified of this woman. She looked like she could do just as much damage as Winry with her wrench. He watched as her eyes flicked over the parchment, then she looked up. Her eyes had softened considerably, and Ed felt himself relaxing.

"Well, why didn't you say so, dear?" she said, putting the letter in a pocket on her dress. She put the broom over her shoulder and turned around. "Let's get you situated." Ed didn't move for a few seconds, then warily followed her inside. The inside of the house wasn't much better than the outside; the floor looked like it needed swept, and dishes were piled into the sink in the kitchen. A set of zig-zagging stairs winded up to the other floors.

"Sorry for the mess," Mrs. Weasley apologized, flicking her wand casually and making the dishes clean themselves. Ed didn't pause to marvel, as he had seen plenty of magic tricks on his way here. "Now hurry upstairs, before the twins get you! Ron will help with your things, hopefully." Ed did as he was told and hurried up the stairs as quietly as his automail would let him. Once he reached the hallway, he glanced at the few doors before approaching one with a slightly ajar door. He peered in, not exactly expecting to see a couple of identical redheads stirring something in a cauldron.

"I think we need a little more than that, George," one was saying, holding up a spoonful of whatever was in the cauldron.

"Fred, we're almost out of it!" George snapped, dumping a weird white powder into the mixture. Ed slowly backed away, not wanting to be caught up in whatever those two were planning. He wandered up a few more flights, until he finally opened a door that had two people sitting on a bed. One looked to be his age, and the other looked like an adult. Both had flaming red hair, and the older one's hair was pulled up into a smallish ponytail with a fang-shaped earring. The room had two beds, and half of the room was cluttered up in orange while the other half was completely bare, save for one of the beds. When he opened the squeaky door, the two glanced up. There were pentagonal cards in their hands, and they quickly hid them away under a pillow.

"Hey, who're you?" the younger one asked rudely. The older redhead smacked him on the back of his head.

"Ron! Be nice!" he snapped, then looked at Ed.

"Hello, there. What's your name?" he asked. Ed blinked, realizing he really didn't want to tell these guys anything. Instead of answering, he put down his suitcase and crossed his arms, eyeing them warily.

"Isn't it more polite to introduce yourself first?" he practically growled. The redheads blinked.

"Right. Well, I'm Bill Weasley." The older one held out his hand expectantly, but Ed just stared at his hand until he pulled it back awkwardly.

"And I'm Ron. What's your problem, mate?" the younger boy said, standing and crossing his arms. Him and Ed ended up in a staring contest, neither of them wanting to back down. After a minute or two, with Bill standing awkwardly behind Ron, Ron's eyes started to water before he blinked. "Ah, shoot," he spat, ignoring Ed's slightly smug smile as he picked up his suitcase. "What are you even doing here?"

"I'm sure Mum let him in. Anyways, what's your name?" Bill asked again. Ed seemed to hesitate, wondering if he should reveal his name.

"Call me Ed," he finally relented, walking to the empty bed in the corner of the room and dropping his suitcase on the bed. Ron and Bill shared a strange glance. Ed turned and walked out of the room, leaving his suitcase behind. Right after he left, Ron turned to Bill.

"We should snoop around a bit, make sure he's not crazy," Ron whispered. Bill didn't really like the idea, being a polite gentleman, but he agreed and let Ron pull him over to the suitcase. Ron gulped as he put his hands on the latches, flipping them open. He started to pull the thing open.

Only, it wouldn't budge. No matter how hard he pulled or pried, the two sides would not separate.

"That's strange," Bill muttered, not sensing any magic spells cast on the thing.

"Oh, really?" Ron panted, out of breath from his brief wrestle with the suitcase.

* * *

As Ed walked down the stairs, he could hear Mrs. Weasley humming as she swept the floors. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, content with just watching for the time being. It slightly reminded him of when his own mother used to sweep the floors, singing aloud and inviting him and his brother to join in. He smiled a little to himself as he watched the woman sweep the dust through the open door, out into the grass. He gave a small cough to let her know he was there, and Mrs. Weasley turned around with a smile.

"Hello, dear," she said kindly, leaning the broom against the wall. "Are you hungry?" Ed opened his mouth to say no, he was fine, but his stomach let out a particularly loud rumble. Ed flushed in embarrassment as Mrs. Weasley laughed. "I think your tummy already answered that one!" She bustled into the kitchen, and Ed reluctantly followed her inside. The dishes were now clean, he absently noticed. Mrs. Weasley magicked together a couple of sandwitches, and Ed thanked her as he made quick work of them. Ed found he rather liked Mrs. Weasley and her willingness to give him as much food as he could fit in his black hole of a stomach. Mrs. Weasley seemed pleased with his big appetite and polite manners, as she made him a few more before he said he wanted to go and set up his stuff.

"Have fun!" Mrs. Weasley called. Ed gave a small wave over his shoulder, stepping onto the stairs and heading for the room he was apparently sharing with Ron. Ron was sitting on his bed, trying to pry open his Alchemically-sealed suitcase, while Bill was half-heartedly giving suggestions on how to open it. Ed watched the struggle for a few brief seconds, slightly disappointed that wizards apparently knew nothing about Alchemy, then stalked forward and snatched his suitcase from Ron's fingers.

"This is mine, I believe," he said, quietly and icily. Ron jumped up indignantly.

"What do you got in there?" he demanded. "Some kind of money?"

"It's mine. I can put whatever I please in it," Ed said smoothly, easily opening the said suitcase. He pulled out another set of clothes, then closed the case and put it under his bed before leaving to find the bathroom. Ron was bristling with indignancy.

"That guy! I swear, he tries to make me mad!" he seethed, throwing himself on his bed. Bill shrugged, though Ron couldn't see it.

"I think it's because he's unfamiliar with us. But if Mum let him in, he's probably a good person once you get to know him," he said optimistically. Ron snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's a great guy," he said sarcastically.

* * *

Ed was standing in the bathroom, his back facing the mirror. He twisted his head around, trying to examine the back of his automail for any damage. When he assured himself that his automail was fine, he checked all the joints for any squeakiness or debris. When he actually _looked_ , there was too many little pieces of dirt inside his automail to count. He frowned darkly, grabbing a pair of tweezers and starting to dig all the debris out.

He was almost finished when the doorknob rattled. He froze in fear, staring wide-eyed at the door, but luckily he had locked it before he started changing.

"Who's in there?" a girl's voice called. "Percy, is that you?"

"It's not Percy," Ed said, loudly enough to be heard through the door.

"Well then, who is it?" the girl demanded.

"It's Ed."

"Who?"

"I'm just a guest," Ed sighed, going back to his automail.

"Well, hurry up in there. Mum says I need to take a bath tonight," the girl said haughtily, and Ed heard her footsteps fade away. He rolled his eyes. This whole family was annoying, all except their mother.

He finished cleaning up his automail arm, then looked at his leg. Since it was almost always covered by his pants, there was hardly any cleaning needed. He sighed in satisfaction when he felt his arm moving much smoother, no longer trying to fight his every movement. He glanced at the clothes he brought in, then realized he had forgotten to grab a pair of gloves.

"Freaking idiot," he cursed himself, pulling on the long-sleeved black shirt. His pants were also black, and he kept his boots. He nearly forgot to grab his pocketwatch from his other pants' pocket. He shoved his hand in his pocket as he walked out, glancing around to make sure there wasn't anybody nearby. He re-entered the room he was sharing with Ron, tensing when he saw Ron staring at the door, as if waiting for him to come back.

"You're a strange little bloke-" the redhead started.

" _Little_...?" Ed's eye twitched, and he could feel a forced smile grow on his face. "Mind saying that again?" Ron gulped, obviously scared of the malice in Ed's voice.

"You're a strange bloke," Ron started again, relieved when Ed didn't comment, "And I don't really trust you yet. So you stay on your side of the room, and I stay on mine. Agreed?"

"Fine with me," Ed said flatly, pushing his automail hand even further in his pocket. He reached his flesh hand under his bed, pulling his suitcase out and opening it one-handedly. He could still feel Ron's eyes on his back. He pulled out a white pair of gloves, then quickly pulled his automail hand out of his pocket and jammed it into a glove. Ron didn't even get a glimpse of metal, to Ed's relief. He pulled on his other glove more slowly, then reached up and began tying his loose hair into a braid.

"Why's your hair so long?" Ron suddenly blurted. Ed glanced over at him.

"Because it can be," he snapped back. "I like it long."

"Alright! There isn't any reason to go biting my head off!" Ron retorted, crossing his arms and turning away with a huff. Ed rolled his eyes, turning to his own bed and climbing on. He reached into his suitcase again and pulled out his travel notebook, something that made Ron stare again. Ed pulled out a pen as well, not yet trusting those weird quills that all the wizards and witches liked to use. He quickly scribbled down a quick summary of his crappy day, then stuffed the items back into his case. Then he realized what he had forgotten. He hadn't brought anything to read, or any other source of entertainment. He groaned aloud, making Ron quirk a brow.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, never mind," Ed barked, laying back on the bed and covering his eyes with his arm. Ron snorted, obviously not believing him.

"Whatever you say, Ed."

* * *

About half an hour later, Ed was laying on his stomach on the bed, his arm dangling over the side and brushing the floor. Ron looked amused as Ed lazily drew circles on the floor, humming softly.

"You're bored, aren't you?" Ron asked quietly, crossing his legs and sitting on the floor. Ed glanced up.

"What's it to you?" He meant to sound biting, but he just sounded... well, bored.

"Because I don't have anything to do," Ron said, grinning. "Do you want to play Wizard's Chess?"

"Chess? No thanks," Ed snorted, climbing fully back on top of the bed and sitting with his legs crossed. Ron scrambled to a standing position.

"Oh, but this isn't ordinary chess," he said slyly. "Just watch." He dug around under his bed for a minute, then pulled out a black-and-red chess set that already had every piece set up perfectly. Ed watched as Ron set it down in the middle of the floor, then beckoned for the blond to sit on the other side. Ed reluctantly dragged himself to the floor, then sat. He had the red pieces. He raised an eyebrow as Ron grinned again.

"So... what now? Who goes first?" he asked irritably.

"I'll go first." Ron cleared his throat. "Knight to H5." Ed's eyebrows rose as one of the pieces literally started moving across the board all on it's own, sliding past the pawns and coming to rest on the said square. Ron looked smug as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Your move." Ed slowly smirked, leaning over the board with much more interest than before.

"You're on, Weasley," he snickered. They bantered back and forth like this, and for a while, all they did was move all their pieces. Until Ed's knight took out it's first pawn. Ed watched, fascinated, as his knight completely smashed the poor pawn, sending it's pieces to the edge of the board.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Ron said, directing his bishop to E7. Ed didn't answer, already planning ahead of the game and deciding where to move his rook. The said rook was shouting at him, trying to not be sent somewhere where it would get smashed.

"Rook to F7."

* * *

About three hours later, long after the sun sank down in the sky, Mrs. Weasley peeked into the room to find the boys still playing, a bedside lamp turned on for light. (Ed had already won four games, and a good amount of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans was piled beside him.) Ron looked frustrated as he moved his knight across the board. Ed looked pleased as his rook completely obliterated the defenseless knight, leaving the king in checkmate. It was surprising that the two had bonded over something as simple as Wizard's Chess and boredom.

"Not again!" Ron whisper-shouted, banging his fist on the floor.

"You boys need to get into bed!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. Both the boys jumped guiltily, and Ron quickly gathered up the set and shoved it under his bed. Ed climbed into his own bed, stuffed his prizes into a drawer in the bedside table, and rolled himself up in the blankets until he was sure the woman was satisfied that he wouldn't be moving.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley," he said absently.

"Night, Mum," Ron said hastily, turning off the lamp.

"Goodnight. I expect you to be up as early as everyone else tomorrow, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said, closing the door. Ed waited until her footsteps had faded, then reached over to his own bedside table and turned on the lamp.

"Bloody Hell, Ed! I didn't know you had a death wish!" Ron growled, covering his face with his pillow. "Mum's gonna get you!" Ed ignored him, instead pulling out one of his extra notebooks and scribbling down every last detail of Wizard's Chess. He even added a few illustrations, which he had to admit looked pretty good. At least to him. He suddenly remembered his watch, and he reached into his pocket and put it on the bedside table.

"Turn the light off!" Ron groaned, rolling over in bed. Ed glanced at him, then tossed his notebook back in his suitcase and flicked off the lamp. Ron grumbled a few irritated insults, but Ed couldn't really care less right now. His eyes suddenly felt like lead weights, and he could barely keep them open long enough to re-roll himself in the blankets and put his head on the pillow. He fell asleep within seconds of closing his eyes, not even taking off his boots.

* * *

"Up and at 'em, Sunshine!" Ron said grumpily, shaking Ed awake from yet another nightmare. Ed lurched to a sitting position, startling Ron, who was standing above him. But the redhead was too sleepy to comment on Ed's sweaty form.

"Mum's got breakfast ready," he yawned, walking over to his orange dresser and digging around for clothes. Ed stayed sitting in his bed for a few seconds, reliving his nightmare, then slowly reached into his suitcase and pulled out another set of clothes. His last set, since he hadn't brought much. He had to wash the other ones soon. He stumbled off to the bathroom, this time making sure that he brought gloves with him. He blearily dressed himself in the bathroom, then brushed his hair and tied it up into a simple ponytail, too tired to put the effort into making a braid. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror. Luckily, he had gotten enough sleep so that there weren't bags under his eyes, but his golden orbs were still slightly dull from sleep, and his clothes were slightly wrinkled. He headed out of the bathroom, passing one of the twins on his way.

"G'morning," the redhead mumbled, not realizing that Ed was a complete stranger. Ed made it back to his and Ron's room, and found Ron struggling to fit his head through his arm hole. Ed sighed, coming over and helping the boy put his shirt on right. Which was slightly hard to do since Ron was taller than him by quite a few inches.

"Thanks, mate," Ron said groggily. Ed nodded, turning and walking out of the room. He stumbled his way down the stairs, almost tripping over his own coat on the way.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, placing a few plates on the table. Ed mumbled a 'good morning' back, then slouched down into a chair. Minutes later, the rest of the Weasley family entered the room and sat at the table.

"Oh, Molly? Who is this?" Mr. Weasley asked, sitting beside Ed.

"This is Edward. Dumbledore asked us to watch over him until it was time to go to school," Mrs. Weasley replied, tossing a healthy amount of breakfast onto Ed's plate. This woke Ed right up. Mr. Weasley nodded, eyes twinkling.

"Well, hello, Edward. Arthur Weasley, at your service." He held out his hand, which Ed shook lightly.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley," he said politely.

"Mum, why is he staying with us?" a smaller girl asked. She was about the same height as Ed, slumped into the seat on the other side of the table.

"He doesn't have anywhere else to go, Ginny," Molly said, placing a few pancakes in front of Ron. "He came here from across the world." All of a sudden, every eye was on Ed.

"Really? All the way on the other side? And he still speaks English?" one of the twins (Ed believed it was George, but he couldn't be sure) said, his eyes sparkling.

"Where did you come from? Like, what was the place called?" the other twin, possibly Fred, demanded.

"Amestris..." Ed mumbled, stabbing a sausage with his fork and stuffing it in his mouth so he wouldn't have to elaborate any further. As if this was a cue, everyone started to eat.

"What's it like there?" Ron asked, genuinely curious.

"Boring," Ed responded automatically, swallowing the sausage. "The only time there's any excitement is if somebody gets arrested for something or another."

"Oh? So there's a lot of crime where you live?" Mr. Weasley seemed genuinely interested, making Ed a little uncomfortable.

"Yeah, there's usually a lot of illegal stuff happening on the streets that the government doesn't catch. I usually end up getting caught up in it since I tended to move around a lot," he answered honestly, not exactly lying but not telling the whole truth.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Mrs. Weasley sighed. "A boy like you, getting caught in the crossfire! You'd think the government would know better than to involve children in their problems!"

"Ahaha... yeah..." Ed agreed nervously, giving a weak smile before catching sight of the glass Mrs. Weasley had placed beside his plate. His body instantly went rigid. "Is that... milk?"

"Yes, dear," Molly answered, settling down herself and grabbing a few pancakes. Ed glared hatefully at the glass cup containing the vile white liquid.

"I hate milk," he muttered under his breath. Mrs. Weasley paused to stare at him.

"You do?" She picked up the glass and walked over to the sink, dumping the milk into the sink and rinsing the cup, then filling it with pumpkin juice instead. "Is pumpkin juice any better?" She handed it to the blond boy, and he nodded.

"Much better, thank you," he said happily, taking a sip. Mrs. Weasley seemed pleased as she sat back down.

"How can you not like milk?" Ron said incrediously, pointing at Ed with his fork. Ed shrugged.

"I never really did like it," he replied.

"Maybe that's why you're so-"

"So _what_?" The atmosphere around Ed took a drastic turn. _'Say it. I dare you. Call me short.'_

"It's probably why you're so pale," Ron said quickly, catching the evil aura. Ed blinked.

"I'm pale?" He turned to Mrs. Weasley, who nodded.

"It must be all the long sleeves you wear," she said. "They don't let the sun get to your skin."

"Huh. I never thought I was pale," Ed said, mostly to himself. He finished off the last of his pancakes, then stood and stretched. "Thanks for the food!" He smiled at Mrs. Weasley, then brought his plate to the sink.

"He's so polite!" he heard Mr. Weasley whisper. "They must have good manners over in Amestris!" He pretended not to hear as he walked back in.

"Oh, Edward, we're going to be shopping for all the school supplies and wands today," Mrs. Weasley said. "If you'll wait for us to finish, we'll leave right after breakfast."

* * *

And leave they did. They all piled into a surprisingly spacious van, and Ed could tell it was enchanted to accomodate them all. The car was barely as tall as him when looked at from the outside. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to notice as she pushed Ginny into the front seat. Ed, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy ("Perfect Percy the prefect," Fred had called him) were all fitted quite comfortably in the back. Bill had stayed behind, saying how he needed to get back to work before the bank got onto him about slacking off. Mr. Weasley was seated in the driver's seat, giddy with excitement.

"Alright, let's go!" he said enthusiastically.

* * *

 ** _One long, bumpy ride later..._**

Ed climbed out of the car dizzily, trying to balance his swaying body. The Weasleys seemed much better off, probably already used to this kind of crazy driving. Ed stumbled along behind them like an odd puppy, feeling out-of-place among the casually-dressed regular folk and the redheaded Weasleys. Luckily, nobody even gave him a second glance as they casually walked into a pub called the Leaky Cauldron.

It was a very strange place indeed for Ed. There was strange, shady-looking people sipping drinks at the bar, and a few old ladies sitting in the corner. The Weasleys quickly walked through, sharing pleasantries with a few random people. They walked out into a back alley, and Mr. Weasley took out his wand and began counting the bricks. Ed was really confused now, but he didn't comment. Mr. Weasley tapped a brick with his wand, and after a second, the wall folded in on itself and opened up a doorway about eight feet tall. Ed quickly dismissed it as magic. The family (and Ed) all crowded through, out into a street filled with people and shops. The first thing Ed saw was a shop selling cauldrons. There were robe-wearing wizards and witches everywhere, haggling for better prices and hurrying about. Mrs. Weasley suddenly put her hands on Ed's shoulders and turned him towards a big white building.

"That's Gringotts Bank. Since you're not from here, you can exchange your money here," she instructed, pushing him towards the building. Ed stumbled a few steps, then glanced back at the Weasleys. They were already scattering off to do their shopping, leaving him by himself. He hesitantly entered the Bank, looking around at all the professional-looking wizards and witches in multi-colored robes. There were strange-looking small people with pointy ears that looked like somebody had simply squashed them down to their size. Everybody in there, including the little people, was wearing robes. At least his coat was almost as long as their robes, so he blended. Slightly. Ed slowly approached one of the friendlier-looking creatures.

"Um, hello," he called, inwardly cursing his shortness because he could barely see over the edge of the counter. The creature glanced up.

"Hello, boy," it said, not unkindly. "What do you need today?"

"Uh, I need to switch my money or something like that... I'm not from here," Ed said nervously. The creature eyed him up and down.

"Elda can see that. Just place the money you want exchanged here, and Elda'll give you the same amount in wizard money." The creature tapped the counter with one of its long, spindly fingers. Ed pulled out a thick wad of Amestrian money and placed it on the counter. The creature's eyes widened.

"Why, is this Amestrian, by any chance?" Elda gave Ed no chance to reply as it snatched up the money. "Yes, it very much is. Very well, Elda'll get you your money shortly. And what is the young Amestrian's name that Elda will be serving?" it said pointedly.

"O-oh, it's Edward. Edward Elric," Ed replied hastily. The creature's eyes bulged even further.

"Oh, dear! And now Elda meet the infamous Edward Elric!" it breathed, fanning its face with the bills. Ed suddenly got the feeling that 'Elda' was a female. "Well, Elda happened to have gotten a request many years ago that if an Edward Elric was ever to stop by, Elda'd give him everything in _that_." She stared at Ed for the longest while. "You are Hohenheim's son, correct?" Ed stiffened in a way that told the creature that, yes, they were indeed related.

"Yes," Ed said shortly.

"Alright then, can you prove it?" Elda said slowly. Ed blinked.

"Uh, I'm not sure how to do that," he answered quietly. Elda looked around, making sure that there was no eavesdroppers, then beckoned for Ed to come behind the desk. He did so nervously, not expecting this to be what a bank was like.

"Do you know Alchemy?" Elda demanded, hands behind her back. Ed nodded hesitantly. "Then transmute this into something." Elda held out an old, broken watch. Ed stared at it, wondering what to turn it into, before tapping his fingers together gently and touching the watch. A few sparks of blue lightning flashed, and the watch twisted into a delicate-looking, golden snowflake. Elda examined it for a second, looking awed, before smiling widely. "Excellent! Now, if you'll come this way, sir..." She turned and started hobbling away, and Ed realized that one of her legs was shorter than the other. "Come along, now!" Ed started after the quick little creature.

"Um, sorry for being rude, but what exactly are you?" Ed asked. Elda cackled.

"Everybody that works at Gringotts is either a goblin or a magic person, sir," she answered. "Elda is a goblin, as you can see." She gestured to her face, and Ed shrugged. She giggled again, then turned and climbed into a rusty-looking mine cart. Or something of the sort. "Get in, get in!" she urged, waving her hand impatiently. Ed quickly scrambled in, and the second one of his booted feet touched the bottom of the cart, Elda yanked on a lever. The cart lurched forward, nearly sending Ed over the edge. But Elda snagged his coat and pulled him back in.

"Crouch down so you don't fall out," she advised, standing calmly with one hand on the lever. Ed obeyed, hunkering down so only his eyes peeked above the edge of the cart. The two passed many strange things, but they were gone so fast Ed wasn't sure of what he thought he saw. At one point, he thought he saw a red-scaled dragon with a heavy chain around it's neck, but it whizzed away only seconds later.

"Are there dragons here?" Ed blurted out. Elda chuckled again. She was a very giggly creature.

"Yes, the dragons guard the vaults with the most amount of money," she explained. "Your vault - left by your father, by the way - is also guarded by a dragon. Mean old thing, it is. Nearly burned Elda's hair off." She wagged her head, sending the tiny, thin dreadlocks on her head swinging. Ed smiled a bit, then jerked to the side and banged his head on the wall as the cart whipped around a corner. He shivered, feeling the air suddenly grow a lot colder. He looked around, surprised to see a giant cavern, with flickering yellow candles and crumbling, rocky walls.

"Are we almost there?" he asked, spotting another cart zipping down a ramp right above them.

"Oh, yes. Elda is sure that it's just one more turn," the goblin said, smiling wide and showing her startlingly white teeth. Ed sighed in relief. The cart had started to make strange squealing noises, and he didn't want to be the first person to fall out of a faulty cart. As Elda said, the cart whipped around another corner (Ed banged his head on the wall again with a muffled curse) and came to a screeching stop. Elda climbed out instantly, sniggering as Ed just about fell out of the cart in his haste to get out.

"This is it?" Ed awed, looking around the spacious cave. It was only lit by a single skylight, illuminating just a small circle of the floor. Ed spotted a single dark shape on the ground, hidden away in the corner. It shifted slightly as he stared, and yellow eyes suddenly shone towards him. Ed held it's gaze, and Elda seemed to watch the staring contest with interest. Finally, the yellow eyes blinked slowly, and then disappeared. A snuffling sound was heard, then a small cough brought forth a burst of flames that lit up the whole room. Ed briefly caught a glimpse of the dragon.

The dragon itself was enourmous, easily six times the height of Armstrong. When it was laying down. It was pure black, with grey spikes going from the top of its head to the tip of its tail. It had thick legs, and a long, twisting tail. Its neck wasn't too long, and its head was rectangular with bright white teeth. The claws were probably four inches long, and gleamed in the flames until the fire winked out. Ed could only describe the dragon as 'mysterious'. Elda seemed satisfied as she snapped her fingers, and a safe door was suddenly illuminated by a glowing orb in the middle of the room.

"The dragon has recognized you as Hohenheim's son. You may pass," Elda said quietly, backing away. Ed gulped, suddenly apprehensive of going over there with a dragon on the loose, but as he walked towards the vault, the dragon simply watched with glowing yellow eyes. Ed stopped in front of the vault, staring at the many locks and strange mechanisms sealing it closed.

"Use your Alchemy, child," Elda called. Ed nodded to himself, clapping his palms together and lightly pressing his fingertips to the door. Blue lightning instantly sprang to life, zipping up the door and lighting up what looked like a Transmutation Circle before flashing red and fading completely. The door slowly swung inwards, and Ed hesitantly leaned forward to peer inside.

Gold, silver, and bronze coins were piled high in the corners, leaving a space in the middle large enough for him to step in and turn around comfortably. There had to be thousands of coins, and most were golden.

"Grab as much as you can, sir," Elda called. "Elda will give you a special magical money pouch." She tossed a small coin purse as far as she could towards him, and Ed reluctantly stepped out of the golden room to pick it up. He examined the small red pouch, which fit neatly in his palm, then shrugged and walked back to the money-filled room. He grabbed a handful of coins, dropping them inside the pouch. Surprisingly, they fit no problem. He experimentally poured another handful inside, and they, too, fit perfectly fine. He grinned, now getting what Elda meant by 'special' and 'magical'. He grabbed as much as he thought he might need, then tossed it all into the purse and walked back out. The vault door closed automatically behind him.

 _'I guess you expect me to thank you now, old man. And I guess you have my gratitude for this, and this only.'_

"Did you get all you wanted?" Elda asked, smiling. Ed nodded, a grin forming on his own face.

"Yep. Let's go back now."

* * *

As Ed was leaving, he waved to Elda happily.

"Bye, Elda! Thanks for everything!" he called, getting a few funny looks. He just kept smiling as he walked away, trying to spot any of the Weasleys in the crowd. But he couldn't spot a single redhead, and with a sigh, he recalled the place he was supposed to go to get a wand.

"Ollivander's it is, then," he muttered to himself, looking around and easily spying the shop. He jogged towards it. As he opened the door, a little bell jingled, alerting the shop owner of his appearance. A bespectacled, black-haired boy was already standing there, a measuring tape wrapped around his head. A thin old man was bustling about, pulling boxes off of the wall and looking inside, then haphazardly shoving them back, muttering "No, that won't do..." He glanced over at Ed, then gestured for the blond to take a seat. Ed awkwardly perched on the edge of a wooden stool. The other boy was staring at him with a small smile.

"You going to Hogwarts, too?" he asked. Ed nodded.

"I just traveled halfway around the world just to attend this stupid magic school," he grumbled. The other boy's smile widened.

"So you're a foreigner. I thought you had an accent. The name's Harry. Harry Potter."

"Edward Elric," Ed automatically replied, warming to the boy already. Harry seemed to be waiting for something, staring at Ed expectantly. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"What? Do you want an autograph?" he snorted. Harry blinked.

"You don't care?" he said, then suddenly smacked his forehead, making the tape measurer slip a little. "Of course. You're a foreigner. Never mind, then." Ed stared for a few seconds at Harry's obviously relieved smile, then shrugged.

"O-kay..."

"Here, try this one." The old man's voice made Ed jump. He nearly forgot about the man. The man was holding out a box to Harry with a polished twig in it. Harry lifted it out wearily, telling Ed that this wasn't the first time. Ollivander suddenly pulled the tape measurer off of Harry's head and stuffed it into one of his pockets. He then nodded at Harry, who had the wand outstretched. Harry waved it a little, accidentally pointing it in Ed's direction as a small stream of fire exploded from the tip. Ed automatically jerked his head to the side, and the flame passed harmlessly by his head and fizzled out. Ed wobbled on the stool for a second, before both him and the stool toppled to the ground.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" Harry shouted, tossing the wand back to Ollivander and rushing over to help Ed back up. But Ed ignored his outstretched hand and pulled himself to his feet, setting the stool on it's legs and sitting on it again. He gave a small scowl in Harry's direction.

"Try to _not_ kill me before I even get to Hogwarts," he sighed, pulling up his legs and sitting cross-legged on the stool. Harry had to wonder how he didn't tip back over.

"I have another wand, Potter!" Ollivanger cried shrilly. Harry gave Ed one last uncertain glance, then walked back over and picked up the next wand. He waved it slightly, careful to not point it near Ed at all. A stream of glittering, crimson sparks poured out of the end of the wand, and Ollivander's eyes glittered happily.

"Nice wand, that is. Eleven inches long, holly, and with a phoenix feather core. Nice and supple, too. Though why it chose you is baffling..." Ollivander seemed to talk with himself as he took the wand back, placing it into it's box and handing Harry the whole package. He didn't bother to elaborate on his comment. "That'll be seven Galleons, Potter." Harry nodded, putting the box under his arm and fishing out seven gold coins. He handed them to Ollivander, then walked out with a weak wave in Ed's direction. He walked right over to an enormous man, who handed him something before hurrying away. Ed stood up and walked over to Ollivander, slightly grinning.

"Hello," he said. Ollivander wasn't much of a smiler.

"Hello. Edward Elric, was it? Alright, let me just take your measurements..."

After a series of strange measurements, including the distance between his nostrils, Ollivander finally bustled over to the wall filled with boxes upon boxes of wands. He pulled out what seemed like a random box, then opened it up and held it out to Ed.

"Sycamore wood, twelve inches, with a Thestral tail hair core... Go on, give it a wave." Ed hesitantly gave the wand a wiggle, then nearly fell backwards as the wand literally exploded, flames bursting from the bottom and the top and nearly singeing his fingers. Ollivander snatched the wand from his fingers. He muttered something to himself as he pulled out yet another box, offering the wand to Ed again.

"Pear wood, thirteen inches, with a unicorn hair for the core." Ed gingerly picked up the fragile wand, then barely even moved it before it made a sound like a gunshot, jerking in his hand. Ollivander dropped the wand back in it's box with a short laugh.

"Picky, aren't you?" he told Ed, a humorous twinkle in his eyes. Ed scowled. Ollivander practically threw the box back, then grabbed another box and held it out to Ed. "Ten inches, yew, phoenix feather for a core." Ed sighed as he picked up the light, thin piece of wood, then paused as he felt like he was being flooded with warmth. Ollivanger watched him expectantly as he waved it slightly, and instantly a shower of rainbow sparks burst from the end, spiraling around him for a second before winking out of sight. Ollivanger seemed pleased as he placed the wand back in it's box and handed it to Ed.

"Phoenix core it is. Very interesting... Very curious... That'll be seven Galleons," he said. Ed had already learned to not comment on Ollivander's strange muttering. He dug seven gold coins out of his money pouch, then dropped them into Ollivander's hand.

"Thank you," he said politely. Ollivander nodded, waving him away and turning to the next customer. Ed grinned, shifting the box so he held it under his arm. He walked out of the store, and was instantly met with a head of flaming red hair.

"Ed! There you are!" Ron gasped, grabbing Ed's arm and dragging him off. "Mum was really worried about you!" Ed blinked.

"She was?" He got a slightly warm feeling when he heard somebody was worried about an idiot like him.

"Yes! She said she saw you leave Gringotts, but you walked away before she could catch you!" Ron said breathlessly. The rest of the Weasley family came into view. Ginny was holding a pewter cauldron, struggling under it's weight. Ed realized that it was filled with books. As Ron approached, he took the cauldron from his sister's hands.

"I found him, Mum. He was at Ollivander's," he said proudly. Mrs. Weasley took one look at Ed and rushed over to him.

"Edward, dear, you really should've tried to find us before you went and got yourself a wand!" she fretted, grasping his face in her hands and making sure he didn't have any random injuries.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley," Ed mumbled, trying to pull away. "I'm old enough to explore by myself." He smiled at her, and instead of the calming affect he thought it would have, Mrs. Weasley huffed with anger.

"You are _not_ old enough to wander around on your own! You are only eleven, young man. Not even _close_ to being old enough!" She turned away, leaving Ed slightly pink in the face.

"Alright, Arthur, you take Ed to buy his books and uniform. I'll take the others to Flourish and Blotts. Fred and George need their books." Mrs. Weasley didn't leave room for argument as she started herding the family towards the said store, leaving Arthur and Ed standing in the middle of the street. The two glanced at each other awkwardly.

"So... Do they have magic where you're from?" Arthur asked as they headed for the cauldron shop.

"No. We have other stuff," Ed said vaguely.

"Stuff like what?" Arthur pressed.

"Like mechanics," Ed elaborated. Arthur's eyes glittered.

"Ah, what kind of mechanics do they make there? Perhaps cars?"

"Not really," Ed mumbled, getting slightly uncomfortable with where this topic was going. "More like... well, mechanical limbs. Like arms and legs and stuff." Arthur looked shocked.

"Well, whatever for?" he cried, drawing a little bit of attention.

"For people who don't have any," Ed grumbled, wishing that he could see the shop already. Luck seemed to be on his side as the cauldron shop appeared in his view. "There's the shop." He pointed to it, diverting Arthur's attention. For now.

* * *

The redhead family - and Ed - all gathered again in front of the Bank. Everybody had their arms full of books, robes, and cauldrons, except for Ginny, who was still too young to go to Hogwarts.

"Everybody alright now?" Mrs. Weasley said breathlessly, lugging an armful of books. She recieved many nods in answer. Ed had been extremely reluctant to leave Flourish and Blotts, but he reluctantly parted with the endless shelves of magical books after Arthur told him Hogwarts had a library as big as the store. He slumped along behind the Weasleys as they bustled back to the car, somehow managing to fit everything in the trunk of the car before climbing in themselves. Ed sat by the window, and he watched the scenery speed by as they drove back to the Burrow.

He found himself wondering what Al and Winry were doing right now. He was so homesick, he even found himself wishing he could see Roy's face for just a second to reassure himself that they hadn't all disappeared while he was gone. Somehow, Mr. Weasley had convinced him to buy a tiny, pitch-black owl with bright blue eyes. The cage was resting on Ed's lap, and he found himself wondering if the owl could manage to find Al or Winry so he could write to them. The owl's eyes seemed to burn holes into Ed's face as he stared.

"Alright there, Eddie?" George whispered next to him, grinning. "You're not nervous already, are you?"

"Of course not," Ed scoffed. "I'm just thinking, is all."

"Suuure." Fred grinned, leaning over from his seat in the middle. Ron and Percy were to busy arguing about something or another to notice. "Probably thinking about a girl back home, huh?" Ed's face turned slightly pink.

"No, I'm thinking about my brother," he said brusquely. "He wasn't invited, so he had to stay home all by himself." The twins' faces fell.

"Ah, that must've been a hard move, eh, mate?" George sighed, clapping him on the back. "It must royally suck to live halfway across the world."

"It's a royal pain in the ass," Ed grunted, poking his finger into the owl's cage. He promptly got a sharp-beaked nip, making him draw back. Luckily, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley weren't paying attention and didn't berate him on his language. The twins snickered.

"I'd like to live somewhere else - anywhere'd be nicer than here," Fred said.

"Same here," George agreed. Ed gave a small scowl.

"Doubt it. The only scenery back where I live is a bunch of apartment buildings and dirt."

* * *

The days seemed to slip through Ed's fingers like sand. It felt like it had only been minutes since he got his wand and everything else, and yet here he was travelling to King's Cross Statioin to board the train to Hogwarts. He could hardly contain his growing excitement - and strange feeling of dread. For some reason, there was a sick feeling in his gut that warned him that his year at Hogwarts wasn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows. None of the Weasleys seemed to feel the same way, as they were all animatedly talking amongst themselves. They were back in the car again, as if Ed hadn't had enough experience with cars for the last few days. He decided to look out the window, because he had nothing better to do anyways except stare at the owl in his lap.

"So, Ed," Ron unexpectedly called. "Back at your hometown, did you have any family?"

"Not really. It was just me and my little brother," Ed answered softly.

"What's his name?" Percy asked curiously.

"Alphonse."

"That's a mouthful to say," Fred commented. "Al-phonse. Alphonse. Aly-Al."

"Alfred," George suggested.

"Arnold."

"Alex."

"Albus."

"Alright, you don't have to make fun of it," Ed chuckled, reminded of when his mother first told him Al's name. He, too, had thought it was difficult to pronounce, so he called his little brother Al instead. And the nickname stuck.

"What about you parents?" Ron asked innocently. Ed's face instantly fell into a scowl.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he muttered bitterly.

"Ah, we're here!" Mr. Weasley said awkwardly, sensing the tension in the back seat. The car lurched to a stop (Ed banged his head on the window, silently cursing at how much his poor head was being abused these days) and everyone poured out. Ed grabbed his owl's cage. He hadn't thought of what to name the little thing, though Fred and George had given many suggestions. But Ed was sure he didn't want an owl named Ton-Ton.

"Alright, hurry up. We have fifteen minutes," Mrs. Weasley said breathlessly, pulling out one of the trunks. Fred kindly took it from her hands. Ed carefully grabbed his own trunk, making sure that he didn't accidentally leave anything out. His suitcase was buried into the trunk that Arthur had forced him to buy because the suitcase couldn't hold everything. Ed was relieved as Mrs. Weasley went and got them all trolleys to roll their trunks around on. He wasn't too keen on having to lug around the big wooden thing.

As they pushed their trolleys into the station, Ed glanced around. It was much like the station back in Amestris, except this one had a lot more people that looked like they were in a hurry and wanted you to just get out of their way. He followed behind the Weasleys as they headed for the barrier between Platform Nine and Platform Ten. Mrs. Weasley showed him how he was supposed to go _through_ the barrier to make it to Platorm Nine and Three Quarters. He made it through the barrier no problem - but convincing him to ride a train for another bazillion hours was another story.

Eventually, Ron convinced Ed to climb aboard the train and go to the very back, where nobody ever went. Ed put his owl's cage on the luggage compartment, along with his suitcase. Most of the other train cars were already full, and Ed spotted Percy already wearing his flowing school robes with a shiny red badge, striding self-importantly to the nearly empty front cars. Ron was caught by Mrs. Weasley before he could enter the train, and his mother posssibly took a few layers of skin off of his nose as she tried to rub away a little black speck. He grinned as he watched Ginny try to keep in her sobs as she hugged her brothers goodbye. Fred and George seemed to find this amusing.

"Don't worry, we'll be back before you know it," George said with a mischevious smile.

"If I get _one letter_ saying you've blown up a toilet, or something like that...!" Mrs. Weasley threatened menacingly.

"We've done nothing of the sort! Thanks for the idea, Mum!" Fred chuckled.

"You two!" Mrs. Weasley hugged them both, then shoved them towards the train. "Look after Ron for me."

"Aww, Ronniekins needs somebody to watch over him," George cooed, grinning wickedly.

"Ah, shut up," Ron growled. The twins both snickered, then galloped away to find their own seats. The train lurched to a start, and Ed could hear Fred and George promising to send Ginny a toilet seat while they were gone. Ed pulled away from the window as he heard somebody enter the car him and Ron were sharing. It was Harry, the boy Ed had met at Ollivander's.

"Hello again, Harry," he said with a grin. Harry nodded awkwardly, placing an owl cage into an empty seat.

"Nice to see you again, Ed," he replied. Ron suddenly bolted upright in his seat as Harry brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

"Wait, are you-! _The_ Harry Potter?" Ron gasped, looking very much like a freckled fish out of water. Harry shrugged, sitting in the seat on the opposite side of the car.

"I guess you could say that. And you are?"

"Ron. Ron Weasley." Ron looked like he would faint when Harry shook his hand. Ed merely made a face and looked out the window.

"This is going to be a boring Hell of a ride," he grumbled.

"Well-" Ron started, but cut off as the car door slid open once again and a kind-looking, plump lady pushing a cart of treats walked in.

"Anything I could get you?" she asked, smiling. Ed and Harry simultaneously jumped out of their seats and walked over. Ron mumbled something about sandwiches before slumping in his seat. Ed didn't know what the heck a Pumpkin Pastry was, but it looked good, so he bought a few of them. And by the time him and Harry were finished, the lady's cart must have been a lot lighter as she left. Ed dumped all the goodies into an empty seat, then picked something up off of the top. It was a box of Bott's Every Flavour Beans. He popped open the top as he sat back in his seat. Ron ogled at the amount of snacks Harry and him bought.

"You two must be rich or something," he awed. "I wouldn't be able to afford a single Chocolate Frog..." Ed suddenly held out his hand, which held a Chocolate Frog. Ron started to decline, but Ed insisted.

"Do you really think I could eat all of this by myself?" he said, waving his hand at the mountain of treats beside him. Ron paused, then shrugged, taking the frog.

"I guess I could take a few..." he muttered, peeling open the wrapper. The sandwiches he had brought along were tossed out the window by a snickering Ed. He grinned as he picked up a green-colored jelly bean. He stared at it for a second.

"I wonder what flavor this would be," he mused.

"Ah, don't trust the green ones. Those ones are usually terrible. Last time I got a grass-flavored one. Those haven't been the same to me since." Ed put the bean back in the box.

"Really?" Harry put in. "I haven't had any before." He grabbed his own box of Bott's Beans, then opened it up and picked out one. It was a light brown color, almost the same color as coffee with too much milk in it. He popped it into his mouth, then instantly spat it back out onto the floor. "Yuck! What was that?"

"Probably dead skin," Ron said seriously, biting the head off of his Chocolate Frog and examining the pentagonal card. Ed recognized the card as the same ones Ron and Bill had been trading when he first saw them. He put the box of jelly beans to the side and picked up another Chocolate Frog. He opened it up, then, nibbling the dark chocolate, looked at the card. It was flat, but the picture inside looked comepletely 3D. He turned the card over in his hands, looking for a hint of an optical illusion, but found no hints and dismissed it as magic. He flipped the card to the back.

"Huh. I got somebody called Voldemort," he said casually, reading the description. Ron suddenly started choking on his frog, while Harry's eyes widened. Ed raised an eyebrow as Harry snatched the card from his fingers.

"I can't believe it!" Harry exclaimed. "They have my name on it, too!" Ed quickly took the card back and read it over himself.

 _'Voldemort, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or You-Know-Who, was the most powerful dark wizard ever known. He believed in an only pure-blooded wizarding community, and gathered an army of pure-blooded wizards and witches who had the same ambition as him. He targeted mainly half-bloods, but he also went after magical folk that did not agree to his ideas. One such family was the Potters. Both Lily and James Potter, husband and wife, were killed. But their son, Harry Potter, lived on and utterly defeated the dark wizard when he was still only a baby.'_

Ed whistled lowly.

"So that's why you were surprised I didn't know your name," he said, glancing at Harry. He flipped the card to the front. A white-skinned, pale-eyed _thing_ stared back at him. It had no nose - only two slits. It was completely bald, and reminded Ed of a snake. "A snake chimera?" he muttered to himself.

"You can't tell me you've never heard of You-Know-Who!" Ron spluttered, finally swallowing the chocolate stuck in his throat. Ed stared levelly at him.

"I've been halfway across the world, where there is absolutely no such thing as magic shit," he deadpanned. "Do you really think I would hear about some snake guy called Moldyshorts?" Harry snorted with laughter, while Ron paled. But before anybody could say anything, once again, the compartment door slid open. A round-faced, dark haired boy was standing there, sniffling back tears.

"Have you seen my toad?" he croaked. Ed opened his mouth to say he hadn't, but cut off when something wet and slimy suddenly fell onto his head. Ron and Harry both turned to him when he made a very undignified noise, the thing sliding over his eyes. Both of his so-called friends stifled laughter as Ed peeled the thing off his face. It was a toad.

"Trevor!" the round-faced boy said happily, holding out his hands. Ed unceremoniously dropped the thing into the boy's hands, more preoccupied with the slime dripping down his face. Ron and Harry couldn't hold their laughter in any longer as he wiped his hand over his eyes, growling darkly. Only a few seconds later, a girl with bushy brown hair barged into the car.

"Neville said thank you for finding his toad," she said. Her tone was bossy, and Ed noticed her slightly large front teeth when she spoke.

"Tell 'Neville' to keep his slimy frog away from me," Ed hissed, flicking slime off of his gloved fingers. The girl glanced at him, then noticed the gunk on his face.

"Here, this might help," she said, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it over. Ed thanked her quickly and wiped his face. The slime felt too much like blood for his liking. Harry and Ron were still snickering, opening a couple packages of Pumpkin Pastries. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," the girl suddenly said, holding out her hand. Ed awkwardly shook it, trying to not let her notice the stiffness of his automail.

"Edward Elric."

"And who are you two?" Hermione demanded, turning to the other two boys in the car.

"Ron Weasley," Ron said instantly, stuffing a pastry in his mouth.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, a bit more reluctantly. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Oh, you're _the_ Harry Potter? I had no idea! I'm Hermione Granger, by the way - I had Muggle parents, so I'm obviously a Muggle-born-" She was talking very fast, and Ed noted that she was rambling, probably not knowing what she herself was saying. Ed slowly reached over and grabbed his still-opened box of Bott's Beans, and popped a white one into his mouth. He instantly spat it back out, and it landed on the floor, right next to the one Harry had spat out. Hermione looked shocked as she stopped talking, as if thinking he tried to hit her with it. But Ed ignored her, quickly sticking a yellow one in his mouth to rid his mouth of the foul taste of the white bean. Luckily, the new one was banana.

"What was so disgusting that you had to spit it at me?" Hermione said, frowning.

"Milk," Ed replied bitterly, glaring at the white speck on the floor. Hermione blinked, but didn't press.

"You should probably put your school robes on - we're nearly there," she advised, turning and leaving the cart without a 'goodbye'.

"Well, she was pleasant," Ron said sarcastically. Ed snorted slightly.

"Sure was. Hey, what's Quidditch?" He held up a Wizard Card, and a picture of somebody called Viktor Krum was riding a broom.

"Ah, you don't know Quidditch? Well..." Ron went off to explain the whole game, with much arm-waving and even imitating riding a broom. He had just started explaining about the Seeker when the compartment door slid open again. This time, it wasn't Hermione or Neville. It was a pale-faced boy with white-blond hair slicked back, making him look like some kind of rat with his pointy face. He was staring at Harry with a spark of interest. Two thick-set boys stood behind him like bodyguards.

"So, is it true? People are saying Harry Potter is in here, and it can't be him-" he pointed at Ron, "-or the pipsqueak. So it has to be-"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PIPSQUEAK?!" Ed roared, throwing an unwrapped Chocolate Frog straight at the pale boy's face. The boy didn't react in time, and the frog landed on his face and stuck. The boy peeled the frog off with a face of disgust, then glared at Ed for a second before breaking into a sleazy smile.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there," he said tauntingly. Ed fumed, standing up, but Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat. The boy snorted, then turned back to Harry. "So is it true? Are you Harry Potter?" Harry nodded, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. The boy smirked. "Well, I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. And you better watch yourself, Potter. We wouldn't want you making friends with the wrong type of wizard." He glanced at Ed and Ron meaningfully.

"I can decide for myself what the wrong type of wizard is," Harry said coolly. Draco seemed shocked, but quickly put a sneer on his face.

"Well, look out for me, then, Potter," he said snidely, turning and walking out of the compartment. The burly boys trailed behind him. Ed glanced at he other two in the cart, and with a sigh, grabbed his school robes out of his trunk.

"Would you two mind looking away?" he asked, staring at them threateningly.

"No, we wouldn't mind at all," Ron said quickly, sliding out of his seat and into the one behind it. Him and Harry turned away, and started talking in hushed voices, obviously gossiping about Draco. Ed quickly slipped off his shirt, then yanked the heavy black cloth over his head. It fit neatly on his automail, and he was grateful to Madam Malkin for not commenting on his metal limbs when she made him the robes. (Though he had gone on a rather loud rant when she called him small for his age.) After the robe was settled nicely on his frame, he told Harry and Ron they were safe now. Ron and Harry quickly turned and changed into their own robes. Ed noticed that they both were thin, and didn't have any muscle at all. He almost laughed when Ron tried to brag that he was stronger than Harry, and the two wizards got into a small argument over who was stronger. Ed didn't join in, because he knew he could squash them both flat if they tried to bring him into it. The train slowly screeched to a halt, and Ed heard the speakers crackle.

"Well, we're here now," Harry said, pushing away from Ron. The speaker advised them to leave their luggage on the train, which Ed did so happily. He didn't want to carry around a box that was as heavy as him. The three hurried to get off of the train, and when they stepped off, Ed instantly regretted it. It was dark, cold, and he couldn't see anything over the mass of kids scrambling to get to the teachers.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, o'er here!" a giant of a man called, his face practically hidden behind wild tangles of bushy black hair. "Alright there, Harry?" The giant winked at the black-haired boy, who smiled back in return. Ed recognized him from outside Ollivander's shop. "Alright, into the boats!" the giant called. Ed frowned when he caught sight of the said boats. He didn't trust the things to safely make it across the lake."Four ter a boat! No pushin'!" The giant carefully guided the students into the boats. Harry, Ron, and Ed all shared a boat. The giant came and plopped Hermione in with them, then climbed into his own boat. "Forward!" The boats started across the water by themselves, and the glassy water was broken by the ripple of the boats.

"Duck yer heads!" Ed didn't have to - the ivy went right above his head. Once the vines were out of the way, the first-years caught their first glimpse of Hogwarts. Ed could only describe it as a castle, with its giant, towering walls and torches. The boats bumped gently onto the harbor, and the giant started to help everyone out. When he got to Ed's boat, he simply lifted Ed out like he was a little child. Ed didn't appreciate that much, but didn't comment. After all, the giant was nearly three times as tall as him. He followed the rest of the first-years to the castle, and the giant knocked three times on the door. It was quickly opened by a stern-looking woman with black hair and rectangular glasses. She eyed the first-years with what Ed hoped was a warm gaze.

"I brought the firs' years," the giant said proudly.

"Yes, well done, Hagrid," the woman said briskly. "Come along, children." The first-years pushed into the castle, thankful to be out of the cold. They climbed a set of stairs, then entered a room they all barely fit into. They probably only fit because they were standing closer together than usual. There was a small hush, then a dozen pearly-white figures drifted through the wall. A couple of people screamed. The ghosts - Ed was sure that's what they were - were talking in clipped, angered sentences. He caught something about someone named Peeves, but the conversation died when they spotted the first-years. Ed could now hear the drone of many voices past the wall, and realized that he would probably have an audience. He had been separated from Harry, Ron, and Hermione at some point, and he was stuck between a tall, blond-haired boy and a thick-set girl with black hair.

"I say, what are you all doing there?" one ghost said.

"Ooh, first-years!" another ghost cheered. The ghosts started to talk again, but this time they were addressing the shell-chocked children beneath them. That is, until the black-haired lady came back.

"Alright, get going, now!" she ordered, and the ghosts drifted away reluctantly. The lady led them through a doorway in single file, and every student was suddenly looking aroud with wonder. Ed was jostled into the back of the line, and all he could see was the night sky above him. But he could hear Ron and Harry gasp in wonder at whatever they were seeing. He heard a sudden hush over the supposed audience, and the clank of a stool being set on the floor. There was a pause, then something with a scratchy voice started to sing.

 _'Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_  
 _But don't judge on what you see,_  
 _I'll eat myself if you can find_  
 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_  
 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_  
 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_  
 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_  
 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_  
 _So try me on and I will tell you_  
 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
 _Where they are just and loyal,_  
 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
 _if you've a ready mind,_  
 _Where those of wit and learning,_  
 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
 _You'll make your real friends,_  
 _Those cunning folks use any means_  
 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
 _And don't get in a flap!_  
 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_  
 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!'_

There was a smattering of applause, and Ed was sure that he caught a brief glimpse of a hat sitting on a stool, bent over like it was bowing. The lady started shushing everybody, though, and eventually the crowd was once again silenced. There was a rustle of parchment, and the woman cleared her throat.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!" she called. A pink-faced girl with pigtails stumbled out of the line and towards the stool. The hat slid over her eyes as she sat on the stool, and after a moment-

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered, and the girl shakily stood and handed the hat back before running off to the table. Ed blocked out the rest of the Sorting, until it was "Granger, Hermione"s turn. She was sorted into Gryffindor, which seemed like the best out of all of them so far. Draco was sorted into Slytherin, Ed noted. When Harry was called, it seemed like somebody had set a hissing fire in the room because of all the whispers. As Harry was placed in Gryffindor, it seemed like a bomb went off with all the loud Gryffindor cheers. All of his friends, including Neville, were sorted into Gryffindor. After a while, Ed realized that they had skipped him. They were going alphabetically. He should've been called before Hermione and Harry and Ron and Neville. Hermione seemed to notice, because she glanced anxiously at Ed. After the last one was sorted ("Zabini, Blaise" became a Slytherin) Ed was left standing alone in the middle of the hall. There were a few murmurs as Professor McGonagall, as Ed learned she was called, cleared her throat again.

"Elric, Edward," she said loudly. Ed took stiff, small steps as he approached, The crowd seemed to notice that he was called out of line, as whispers started to fly. He climbed onto the stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. The last thing Ed saw was all the faces turned towards him, practically glowing in the light. The hat slid over his eyes, and he had to hold it up with his hands so it wouldn't cover his whole face.

"Hmm... Very interesting... Another tricky one, I see..." he heard whispered into his ear. He jumped, instabntly recognizing the hat as a soul-bound object. "Right you are, boy. Hmm, intersting... an Alchemist, I see... Haven't had one of those for a good couple of centuries. And a smart one, at that... Where shall I put you, hmm? Perhaps Hufflepuff because of your loyalty? Or Ravenclaw for your brains? Slytherin because of your determination and cunning? Or Gryffindor for your bravery? Hmm, what a puzzle..."

"Don't put me in Slytherin," Ed murmured, remembering Malfoy. He wasn't shocked that the hat could read his mind - how else could it sort everyone so perfectly?

"Not Slytherin, eh? A pity, you'd do well there... What a waste. Well then, how about Ravenclaw?" the hat suggested.

"No."

"Hufflepuff?"

"That sounds dumb," Ed muttered with a grin. The hat chuckled.

"Well then, better be GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers as Ed stood, took off the hat, and ran over to his new house with a wide smile. Harry was grinning, and Ron was laughing aloud.

"I knew you would be in Gryffindor!" Fred shouted.

"I thought so, too!" George added. Percy was grinning widely as he gestured for Ed to sit down. Dumbledore stood up from where he was seated at the High Table - Ed only just now noticed him there. The talking went silent as he spread his arms out, smiling widely and happily.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sat back down, and a roar of applause and cheering rose from every table.

"Is he... a bit mad?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Mad?" gasped Percy. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But yes, he is a bit mad. Potatoes, Harry?" All of the first-years gasped when they realized the empty dishes were suddenly filled with food, All kinds of delicacies and courses were just there, waiting for Ed to scarf it all down - big slabs of steak, baked potatoes, tubs of butter, gravy boats with eight different kinds of gravy (Ed didn't even know there was that many kinds of gravy) and giant pots of soup. He reached out and scooped a big glob of mashed potatoes onto his plate, not caring where the food came from, or that Harry had just been reaching for the potatoes. As long as he could eat it, he didn't care. His stomach was growling.

"That does look good," he heard a ghost sigh. Harry glanced up from where he was cutting up his steak.

"Can't you-?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost.

"That must really suck," Ed said seriously. The ghost glanced at him, as if just now noticing that he was sitting beside Harry.

"I don't need to eat, though," he pointed out. "I don't believe I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron said suddenly. "My brothers told me about you! You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-"

"Why _nearly_ headless?" Ed interrupted, grabbing an empty goblet and peering inside. He looked irritated that there wasn't anything inside it. Nicholas also looked irritated, but for a very different reason.

"Because of _this_ ," he said. He reached up and pulled on his left ear, and his head flopped onto his shoulder. Ed grinned, thinking it was pretty cool, but the other kids looked like they'd be sick. Some even pushed their plates away. Nick pushed his head back onto his neck, and, glancing at Ed with his own smile, turned to the other first-years. "So, new Gryffindors! I hope you'll help us win the House Cup this year. Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin's won the cup for the past six years already - the Bloody Baron's getting to be almost unbearable! He's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry, Ed, and Ron all glanced at the Slytherin table. There was indeed a ghost, with a gaunt face and splashes of silvery-blue blood. He was next to Draco, the three boys noticed with amusement. Draco didn't look happy with the seating arrangements at all. They looked away when a boy named Seamus Finnigan started asking them about their families. Ed just said he didn't remember his parents and left it at that. He didn't really listen to the coversations, but he looked around at the other tables. He found out that each house had its own colors - the Gryffindor colors were scarlet and gold, he noted with approval.

After another while of eating, when everyone seemed satisfied, the remaining food faded from the plates. Then desserts appeared; ice cream of so many flavors, cakes, Jell-O, and - Ed noticed with glee - apple pie. He grabbed the biggest slice he could, then put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. He grinned, muttered 'Thank you for the food!', and dug in.

That was only the first of many slices to become a victim to Ed's big appetite.

After everyone was satisfied, the desserts, too, disappeared. Dumbledore stood once more, and a hush came over the students.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Ed could've sworn he glanced at Fred and George as he said that.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Ed and Harry snickered. They were two of the few that did.

"Is he serious?" Ed whispered to Percy, smile dropping.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore smiled wide, but the other teachers looked like their smiles were made of cardboard. Dumbledore flicked his wand, and a golden ribbon shot out of the end and twisted to form words in midair. "Now, pick your favorite tune, and let's be off!"

And so they sung.

 _'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_  
 _Teach us something please,_  
 _Whether we be old and bald,_  
 _Or young with scabby knees,_  
 _Our heads could do with filling,_  
 _With some interesting stuff,_  
 _For now they're bare and full of air,_  
 _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_  
 _So teach us things worth knowing,_  
 _Bring back what we've forgot,_  
 _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_  
 _And learn until our brains all rot.'_

Ed laughed when he was finished singing to the tune of the Amestrian army theme. Fred and George were the last ones to sing - they were singing in a slow funeral march that Ed didn't recognize. Dumbledore conducted their last lines with his wand, and was the one to clap the loudest when they were finished. He wiped his eyes, to Ed's confusion.

"Ah, music! Magic beyond all we do here! Now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The first-years sorted into Gryffindor sleepily followed Percy through the crowds, out the Great Hall, and up a marble staircase. Ed, who wasn't tired in the slightest, looked around with wonder at the moving and talking pictures. He was fascinated by the hidden doors and moving staircases. They had just started walking down a hallway when Percy suddenly stopped them. There were floating walking sticks in front of them. As the prefect took a step forward, they started to throw themselves at him.

"Peeves the poltergeist," he whispered, blocking with his arms, then raised his voice. "Peeves, do you want me to go get the Bloody Baron?" There was a rude noise. "Peeves! I'm serious!"

There was a noise like a whip crack, and a little man with a wide grin and beady little eyes appeared, sitting cross-legged in mid-air. He was holding the walking sticks.

"Ooooh! Ickle Firsties! What fun!" he cackled, then suddenly swooped at them. They all ducked, except Ed. He didn't have to bother.

"Go, Peeves! Or the Baron'll hear about this!" Percy threatened. Peeves stuck his tongue out childishly, then vanished. The walking sticks fell onto Ed's head, and, cursing under his breath, Ed kicked them to the side. Peeves flew down the hall, still invisible, rattling suits of armor. Ed was briefly reminded of Al.

"You'll want to keep an eye out for Peeves," Percy advised them. "The Bloody Baron's the only one that can control him. He won't even listen to us prefects. Ah, here we are." They stopped in front of a portrait of a very fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," Percy said. The portrait swung open. Everyone climbed inside. Ed and Neville needed a boost to climb in. The Gryffindor common room was warm and cozy, with squashy armchairs and a big fireplace.

Percy directed the first-years to their dormitories - girls went through one door, boys went through the other. They climbed up a spiral staircase and into a circular room. Six four-poster beds were sitting there, each with a trunk at the foot of it. Too tired to say much, everyone but Ed changed into their pajamas and climbed into bed. Ron whispered something to Harry, then pushed his rat Scabbers off the bed. Everyone fell asleep nearly instantly. Ed waited until all their breathing was deep and even before changing himself. He sat on his bed, then pulled out his pocketwatch. He opened it up and reread the engraving. He smiled ruefully to himself, placing the watch on the bedside table and laying back on his bed. He pulled the blankets up over his head, then turned on his side and fell asleep quickly, strangely enough. That night marked the first night he had nightmares about a snake-like wizard with slits for a nose.

 _'Snake Chimera.'_

* * *

 _ **Fun fact-**_

 _ **There are 76,944 words in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.**_

 _ **There are 15,374 words in this chapter.**_

 _ ***Whistles lowly at the word count***_

 _ **Well, this plot bunny certainly wanted attention. Sorry for all the rehashing with Sorcerer's Stone and the lack of attention for Harry. My explanation/excuse is that I'm retelling the story with Ed in it, and we don't need a fanfiction that says exactly the same thing as the book. And if you think Ed is OOC, sorry! I'm not too good with making them act in-character...**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed this! I'll update as soon as the next chapter is looked through, corrected, etc...**_

 _ **Please review! For every positive review, Ed grows an inch taller!**_

 _ **Ed: *Gasps*REALLY?! THEN YOU BETTER GET GOOD REVIEWS! (Which I doubt will happen because your writing is awful)**_

 _ **Me: Oi! *Crosses arms and pouts* I'm better than you!**_

 _ **Ed: *Splutters* How do YOU know?!**_

 _ **Me: *Shrugs* Eh. I dunno. You've never written a fanfiction before so...**_

 _ **Ed: I WILL WRITE ONE! YOU'LL SEE! IT'LL BE BETTER THAN ANY OF YOURS! *Runs off***_

 _ **Me: *Sighs* Idiot...**_


	2. Quidditch and Whatnot

It was the next morning. Ed woke up, covered in sweat from a nightmare, as usual. He slowly sat up, rubbing his face. When he looked up, his owl was sitting at the bottom of his bed, head cocked to the side. With a grunt of annoyance, Ed threw his pillow at the little feathery bundle.

"What're you looking at?" he grumped, reaching over and grabbing his watch. He flipped it open; six thirty-seven in the morning. His owl - who still didn't have a name - was glowering at him from Harry's bed. Ed glared right back. "You know, I think I know a name for you. Little Shit." The owl didn't look impressed as it flew out the window. Ed heaved a sigh as he ran his hand over his face one last time. He finally stood, pulling off his pajamas and grabbing his school clothes. He gave the robes a glare, then tossed it on his bed as he studied the rest of the outfit.

It was a grey, long-sleeved jumper with black slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a tie with a pointy hat to go along with it. Ed scoffed at the clothes, but he put it on. Most of it. He forwent the tie for a scarlet-and-gold scarf, however, since he was... less than educated on how to tie one of the stupid things himself. ("Why are there so many different ways to do it? It turns out exactly the same," he once complained when Alphonse had showed him two different ways to tie a tie.) The hat was tossed to the side, deemed 'tacky and unoriginal'. Though he completely hated it, he had put the robes on, planning on adding his own personal touch whenever he had the chance. He kept fiddling with his gloves, however, wondering how the teachers would react to Dumbledore's note that he could wear them all the time.

The said note was tucked into an easily-accessed pocket of his robes, just in case a teacher decided to get smart with him and try to make him take off his gloves. His wand, which he wasn't all that fond of, was conveniently hidden in his robe sleeve. He knew he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it. Living practically on the streets for a year or two tended to give people paranoid tendencies.

He sat idly on his bed and read through a couple of the magical textbooks - Potions and Herbology, the only subjects that made remote sense - until the other boys in the room started to stir. He closed his book just as Ron gave a big yawn. The redhead visibly jumped at the loud clapping noise the book made as the pages slapped together.

"Blimey, Ed, you nearly gave me a heart attack," he said with a sleepy scowl. "And ho-o-ow are you awake so early?" He had tried to stifle another yawn - he really did. But yawns don't like being stifled. Ed had to hold back a smirk as Ron rubbed his eyes.

"I'm usually an early riser. Though I don't usually wake up this early." He looked over at Harry, who was looking a little worse for wear. He looked like he had only slept for an hour or two, which might have been the case if he had a vivid enough nightmare. Ed would know. He'd gone through many sleepless nights because of night terrors plaguing his dreams.

He lifted an eyebrow, however, when Harry suddenly gave a loud groan.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked instantly.

"Nothing, never mind," Harry sighed. But Ed could hear it in his tone. _'Oh, nothing, except that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and I'm in this school where people will probably stare and point at me all day'_. Ed snorted, which gained him a funny look from the other boys in the room, but he ignored them as he shoved his books into his schoolbag and slung it over his shoulder.

Once Harry and Ron were finished changing, they all went down to the common room. The only other person in there was the girl with bushy brown hair, but she was reading in an armchair by the fire.

"'Lo," Ron called, still slightly groggy but awake enough to not stumble all over the place. The girl glanced up.

"Hello," she greeted, not smiling. "I was waiting for Ed." Ed raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I wanted to ask you something," the girl - what was her name? Holly? - said. "About your accent." Ed made a face.

"An' why would ya need ta ask somethin' like tha'?" he said with a very heavy accent. "Me accent is none o' your business." Harry and Ron burst out laughing at the awfully imitated accent, while the girl frowned disapprovingly.

"Well, I haven't heard an accent like yours before. It sounds slightly German, but it isn't German. I know someone with a German accent." Ed rolled his eyes, dropping the silly fake accent.

"Its Amestrian," he said lamely. "You wouldn't understand." The girl quirked an eyebrow, opening her mouth to say something, when-

"Well, I'm hungry," Ron said loudly. "Aren't you hungry, too, Harry?"

"What? Oh! Uh, yeah!" Harry agreed quickly. "Starving!" Ed caught on quickly.

"My stomach is trying to eat itself," he complained, walking over to the portrait hole. "Come on, you slugs."

"Slugs!" Ron said indignantly. "I'm no slug!" Ed grinned as he turned and brought his hand up, then slowly pinched his thumb and pointer finger together.

"Squish." Ron threw his hands up.

"What does that even mean?" he almost shouted. Ed just snickered as he left the common room. The girl's frown hadn't left her face as she closed her book and followed after the blond alchemist.

* * *

At breakfast, Ed shoved everything down with lightning speed. Ron, who had lived with the boy for a considerable amount of time, was shocked at the sheer amount he fit inside his stomach. He had seen Ed eat before, but not like this.

"Blimey, you'd think for such a little guy he wouldn't eat so much," he whispered to Harry. The little antenna on Ed's forehead twitched, and he turned to glare at the two while also shoving a piece of bread into his mouth.

"Who called me short?" he growled. When neither answered, he growled more as he turned away. Ron and Harry shivered, vowing to themselves to never call Ed short when he was within a ten-mile radius of them.

"Schedules are coming," Hermione hissed, and Ed looked up. Professor McGonagall was coming down the aisle, a stack of parchment in her hand. She gave a slip to Hermione, Harry, and Ron, then shuffled the stack around for a bit before handing Ed a much longer piece. He took it with a raised eyebrow, but didn't comment as he looked it over.

"Hey, we've got all the same classes," Ron told Harry, comparing their schedules. Ed grabbed Ron's parchment without asking, then compared them.

"I got the same as you, too," he mumbled, handing it back. He didn't mention what the extra parchment length was for - that was personal.

* * *

By the time he made it back to the common room that afternoon, it had started to rain. He groaned as his arm and leg throbbed uncomfortably, making a few people glance over at him, and flopped into an armchair a few feet away from Holly, Harry, and Ron. They glanced at him, then continued chatting about the classes they had that day, Ed extracted his travelling journal from his schoolbag and pulled out a quill. He thought that he might as well practice with using a quill, since he'd be using one for the next nine months. He started to scribble in his book.

 _'Started using quills, which are a pain. Still don't like magic, since it makes no sense. Only two classes make sense here; Potions and Herbology. More on those later.'_

Ed glanced up at Holly (It was Holly, right? Or was it Hermy?), Harry, and Ron. Neville had somehow appeared within the group and was talking quietly with them. When Ed looked back down at his travel book, the ink in the quill had dripped out and blotted on the page.

"Damn it!" he whisper-shouted, making the now-four quickly close their mouths. He looked up at them slowly. They were watching him. With a groan, Ed picked up his bag and headed up to his dorm room. Nobody followed him, thankfully. He tossed himself onto his bed and set his bag on the floor. He was alone in the room, so he gently tapped his fingers together and placed one hand on his ruined book and held the quill in the other. The extra ink swirled off of the page and up his left arm (Ew), then traveled across his body (Double ew) and over his automail (There better not be ink in his automail now) before going back into the quill. He lifted the sleeve of his robe. There wasn't an ink stain to be seen.

"Of course there wasn't," he muttered to himself. "I made it all go back into the quill."

"Made what go into the quill?"

Ed jumped and cursed wildly in Amestrian at Seamus's unexpected question, yanking his sleeve back down. The victim of his swearing spree looked miffed, since he didn't understand a word Ed had said.

"What do you want?" Ed barked.

"Uh, Harry just wanted to get me to ask you if you wanted to visit Hagrid with him," Seamus said awkwardly. Ed relaxed, seeing how Seamus hadn't seen his Alchemy or his automail arm.

"Alright, I'll be down in a bit," he sighed. Seamus nodded, disappearing back down the stairs. Ed yawned, looking at the time. It was only two fifty. Grudgingly, he put all his stuff away, including his school outfit. He donned his usual red cloak over his black outfit, even picking up his pocket watch and twirling it on his finger as he descended the stairs. Hermione (He _finally_ remembered her name), Ron, and Harry all looked surprised as he appeared.

"I didn't think you'd come until Seamus told me," Ron admitted. "You didn't want to go on that camping trip..."

"That was then, this is now," Ed said gruffly. "Can we go now?" The boys shared a glance. Hermione huffed, obviously not going since she had her nose deep in a book. Ed wished he had the same excuse she had, but he had yet to locate the library and had already finished all his books from Flourish and Blotts. Mr. Weasley still had to send him those rare Ministry books. All in all, he was just bored and needed something to do. And that something came in the form of visiting that giant that treated him like a kid.

So he followed the Gryffindors outside into the cold, already regretting his decision. He hugged his arms close to himself as they ran to Hagrid's little hut, trying in vain to get out of the cold rain. Already he could hear the big, booming barks of a dog. Harry knocked timidly on the door, far too lightly to be heard over the barks. Ed rolled his eyes and pushed the Boy-Who-Lived aside, raising his automail arm up to bang on the door.

Until the door was abruptly yanked open, and a dark, _very large_ shape knocked Ed flat to the ground.

"Ed!" both Gryffindors gasped. Ed struggled to shove the thing off of him, until-

Something rough and wet slid against his cheek.

"Fang! No!" Hagrid's booming voice commanded. The weight was pulled off of Ed, but not before the dog got another three licks in. By the time Ed managed to stand again, the bangs on one side of his face stuck straight up, rivalling a mohawk, and his pants were muddy. Ron and Harry couldn't seem to stop laughing at him. Hagrid coughed, seeing the murderous look on Ed's face.

"Sorry 'bout tha'. Let me invite yeh inside," he said quickly, holding Fang back with one hand and opening the door wider with the other. Ed futilely tried to flatten his bangs as he stepped in, then paused.

Hagrid's hut was pretty queer. There was hams and birds of some kind dangling from the ceiling, while a kettle boiled in an open - and possibly dangerous - fire. There was a giant bed in the corner that even Al wouldn't have a hard time fitting on it.

"Make yerselves at home," Hagrid said, letting Fang go. Ed quickly fell into a chair so the dog couldn't knock him over again. Said dog decided that his leg would be a fun place to drool. But his already-dirty pants wouldn't be very fun to clean afterwards.

"Hagrid, this is Ron and Edward," Harry introduced, gesturing to his friends. Hagrid nodded, beaming.

"Another Weasley, eh?" he said slyly, glancing at Ron's freckles. "Spent half me life chasin' them twins away from the forest." Ron flushed slightly, as if embarrassed for his brothers. Hagrid offered a plate of rock cakes, which Ed thought looked completely inedible. But Ron and Harry (The oblivious idiots) tried them anyways and nearly broke their teeth. Ed politely declined them, actually valuing his teeth. He could feel his leg growing wetter and wetter by the second. He wondered if he should push Fang off, but thought better of it and scratched the dog behind its ears.

All three of them were extremely pleased when Hagrid called the nosy Filch 'that old git'. But Ed frowned thoughtfully when Hagrid mentioned an annoying cat named Mrs. Norris. He kind of wanted to meet this cat, for some odd reason.

He listened as Harry told Hagrid about their Potions lesson that day. Hagrid seemed to believe that Snape didn't have any grudge against Harry at all, claiming that it was 'rubbish'. But he wouldn't quite meet Harry's eye as he said so.

"How's yer brother, Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron abruptly, purposely and obviously changing the subject. But Harry didn't seem to really notice that fact as he started to read a newspaper clipping that had been laying on the table. Ed absently listened to Ron telling about his brother, Charlie, who apparently worked with dragons. Ed was relatively curious about dragons - after all, he had met one at Gringotts. It was natural for him to be curious. He glanced over at Harry, who had drawn his eyebrows, looking very disturbed.

"Hagrid!" he said suddenly. "The Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've happened while we were there!"

That seemed conveniently suspicious. Ed yawned behind his hand, and Hagrid took that as his cue to tell them that they should go back inside and go to bed, conveniently ignoring Harry's statement. Ed's bangs had finally drooped down over his face again, thankfully, but as they moved outside once more they became soaked and plastered to his face.

He was utterly confused when he found out that Ron and Harry had placed all the rock cakes they had gotten into their pockets. Harry was frowning, not listening to Ed's questions or Ron's slightly embarrassed answers about being polite.

* * *

Ed had sincerely hoped that his only encounters with the vile Slytherins - and that total bastard Malfoy, especially - would be during their double Potions lesson. But alas, his wish was completely crushed when a notice was pinned to the wall. Ron and Harry groaned loudly, while Ed muttered a string of Amestrian curses under his breath.

"Just what I always wanted," Harry said sarcastically. "To make a fool out of myself on a broom in front of Malfoy." It was obvious that he had wanted to learn how to fly, but didn't want to go about it in this way.

"You don't know if you'll fail or not," Ed said casually. "You could totally bomb it and possibly kill yourself on accident, or you could nail it and make Malfoy piss himself."

For some reason, this didn't seem to make Harry feel much better. Whatever, it wasn't Ed's fault that he didn't cheer people up just by standing there.

Ed didn't really see the big deal about Quidditch. He found the sport completely stupid. The wizard families couldn't shut up about it - Quidditch this, Quidditch that, blah blah blah. He was tired of it.

* * *

On Thursday, as Ed was shovelling breakfast by the pound into his stomach, he absently listened as Hermione bored Harry and Ron half to death with Quidditch tips from _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville seemed to hang on to her every word, looking desperate for anything that would help him stick to that silly broomstick.

Hermione cut off, much to Neville's displeasure, by the arrival of the mail. Ed recieved a short letter from Al that said he was going to be researching for the next couple of days, so he may or may not reply right away. Winry had added to his letter, telling him to take care of his automail if he didn't want to have brain damage later on. That was it. He huffed out a breath, slightly disappointed that he hadn't gotten anything from Mustang regarding complaints about the Howler he had sent two days before.

"It's a Remembrall!" Neville was suddenly saying excitedly. Ed looked over to see a glass ball with white fog, about the size of a baseball. "Gran knows I forget things a lot. This tells you if you do forget something. If you hold it tight and it turns red - oh..." he frowned slightly as the fog grew scarlet, "...you've forgotten something."

Neville struggled to remember what he forgot, face screwed up in concentration, when the Remembrall was snatched out of his hand by a certain dumb-ass Draco Malfoy. Harry and Ron braced to get up, but Ed quickly lifted his arm, popped the Remembrall right out of Draco's hands, caught the glass sphere, and stomped on Draco's foot. As Draco yelped in pain and clutched his foot, Ed graciously handed the Remembrall back to Neville with a grim smile.

"Take care of that," he advised.

"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall's voice demanded, making Ed jump in surprise.

"He attacked me!" Malfoy whimpered, not able to state Ed's name since he didn't know it. McGonagall's sharp eyes fell onto Ed, who Malfoy was pointing at instead.

"Is this true?" she asked.

"I didn't attack him," Ed said coolly, ignoring the Gryffindor's anxious stares. "He took Neville's Remembrall, so I took it back. I didn't mean to step on his foot, if that's what you mean." McGonagall sniffed, convinced, while Malfoy scowled.

"Very well. Move along, Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said briskly, pointing Malfoy away from the Gryffindor table. Ed turned back to his breakfast, then noticed the stares directed his way.

"What?"

* * *

At three thirty in the afternoon, the Gryffindors and Slytherins trudged outside, neither party happy about seeing the other. Malfoy's foot was wrapped in bandages, and he exaggerated a limp as he walked over to the group. Ed grinned slightly as Madam Hooch arrived, yellow eyes flashing.

"Madam Hooch," he called, and Hooch glanced over at him. "I don't think Malfoy is well enough to be flying a broom. He's limping and everything."

"Is that so?" Madam Hooch's eyes darted over to Malfoy, who scowled deeply.

"I'm fine!" Malfoy barked, quickly correcting his limp and walking normally. "See?"

"Hmm." Madam Hooch averted her eyes and scanned the first years. "Well? What are you waiting for? Everybody stand by a broomstick!" There was a flurry of movement as everybody scrambled to stand by a broom. Ed stared at his. There was clear bald spots in the twigs, and the handle looked like it could splinter at any moment. He doubted that it could support his weight and frowned.

"Stick out your right hand over the broom and say UP!" A broom under Madam Hooch's hand flew into her palm.

"UP!" everybody repeated. Harry's broom jumped into his hand, as did Malfoy and Ron's. Hermione's broom rolled over like a dead animal, while Neville's didn't move at all. Ed's didn't budge.

"Up!" he repeated hotly, flapping his arm up and down, then paused. He stepped over the broom so his left hand was hovering over it.

"What are you-" Madam Hooch started angrily.

"Up!" The broom lurched into his hand. Madam Hooch seemed surprised.

"Never has anybody used their left hand before," she muttered under her breath, and if she had had glasses, Ed was sure she'd be frantically cleaning them to see if she hadn't seen wrong. Malfoy looked disgusted that Ed had managed to get the broom into his hand.

Madam Hooch showed everybody how to mount their brooms (Ed had to adjust slightly since he was left-handed) without slipping off. She walked up and down the row, pausing at Ed to decide if he had gripped it the right way before continuing on. Harry, Ron, and Ed shared grins when she stopped to correct Malfoy, saying he had been doing it wrong for years. Neville just seemed to pale even more, and Ed let go of his broom for a second to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"When I blow the whistle, you will kick off from the ground. Keep your brooms steady and rise a few feet, then come back down by leaning slightly forward." She started to count down, but poor Neville, still nervous and positively terrified, jumped up at 'two'. Ed curiously watched as Neville rose higher and higher, his white face shrinking fast as he darted up like he'd been shot from a cannon.

"Come back, boy!" Madam Hooch shouted, but Neville just kept rising. Suddenly, Neville gasped with new-found terror. He slipped sideways off of the broom, plummeting fast towards the ground, until-

 _WHAM!_

There was silence for a few seconds as everybody processed the events that had just happened. One second, Neville was falling, and the next, he was sitting, perfectly fine, atop somebody's back. Only the bright golden hair revealed who the unfortunate soul had been.

Madam Hooch dashed over, pulling Neville to his feet and quickly bending over the flattened Ed. But as soon as her hand touched his shoulder, he burst up from the ground, dirt clinging to his face and grass in his hair. He spat out a rock while brushing grass from his hair, not noticing the incredulous stares he was recieving.

"Are you alright?" Madam Hooch worried, trying to help dust off Ed's robes.

"Fine," Ed grunted, taking a step back. He didn't really appreciate the touch, and finished dusting himself off.

"Are you sure?" Madam Hooch stepped towards Ed again.

"I'm fine!" Ed snapped. Madam Hooch blinked, then cleared her throat.

"Alright, well-"

"Ah! Neville!" Everybody turned. Neville had fallen over in a dead faint, face ghostly white.

"Oh for - None of you are to move while I take him to the hospital wing!" Madam Hooch barked, slinging one of Neville's limp arms over her shoulder and proceeding to drag him over to the castle. "Leave those brooms alone, or you'll be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say 'Quidditch'!" The door slammed closed behind her. All eyes turned to Ed.

"Bloody Hell, mate!" Ron blurted. "I thought you were crushed for sure!"

"Nah, I'm fine," Ed dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You kind of get used to being smashed when every single dog you meet believes you'd be a fun thing to jump on.." He scowled fondly as he recalled Den, who never failed to jump on him whenever he returned to the Rockbells. His smile dissolved just as quickly when his mind turned to Alexander and the horrible deeds performed by a one Shou Tucker.

"Oh, look!" Malfoy said suddenly, darting forward and picking something up out of the grass. "It's that thing Longbottom's grandmother sent him!"

"Remembrall," Ed supplied automatically, but Malfoy ignored him. Harry frowned, starting to step forward, but Ed held him back. Malfoy cackled with glee.

"I think I'll just leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about... up a tree?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ed growled, contradicting himself as he restrained Harry from attacking. "Give it to me."

"Come and get it, shorty!" Malfoy sniggered, grabbing his broom and lauching into the air. Ed twitched, then held out his hand. The half-bald broom zipped into his hand.

"No!" Hermione shouted. "You heard Madam Hooch!"

Ed didn't say anything as he climbed onto his broom and flew into the air. The broom wobbled under him, clearly uncalibrated due to the weight of a metal arm and leg, but he quickly adjusted himself and it evened out. Malfoy seemed surprised that he didn't fall out of the sky, but recovered quickly.

"Give. It. To. Me," Ed growled dangerously. "Unless you want to be greeting the ground. With your face."

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy sneered, though he had gone paler than usual. "Let's just see if you can catch it!" He tossed the sphere high in the air, then darted to the ground where he'd be safe. Ed started to chase after the Remembrall as it fell, though the broom was slow and had started shaking again. He didn't stop to marvel at how _easy_ it felt to be flying in the sky - he hated planes since they could possibly catch fire at any moment, but this made him feel... well, free. Many people gasped as he approached the ground quickly, and the Slytherins seemed to be hoping that he'd pull up too late and smash his face into the dirt. But Ed didn't smack into the dirt. He caught the glass ball just a few inches away from the ground, then quickly pulled up at the last moment, sticking his feet out as brakes. He pushed up a lot of dirt under his heels as he managed to screech to a stop, then dropped the broom quickly and shook out his splintered - and aching - hand. There were finger-shaped marks on the handle where his automail had dented the wood.

"ELRIC! POTTER!" Everybody jumped, then glanced around. While they were watching Ed fly, Harry had flying-tackled Malfoy to the ground and was punching him in the face repeatedly. Ron managed to drag him off of the Slytherin with minimal difficulty.

"Never in my teaching career-" McGonagall seemed speechless, her eyes flashing and her lips paper-thin.

"Professor, it wasn't their fault!" Hermione tried to reason. "Malfoy-"

"Be _quiet_ , Miss Granger!"

"But-"

" _Enough_ , Mr. Weasley! Elric, Potter, follow me. Malfoy, go see Madam Pomfrey about that nose." Malfoy nodded, face bloody and nose bent awkwardly. Ed and Harry exchanged looks, Harry's guilty, while Ed's was blank. Harry seemed to want to say something, because he opened his mouth, but closed it and looked at the ground. Ed could almost see the word 'expelled' running through Professor McGonagall's head and inwardly winced. He did _not_ want to recieve a lecture from Mustang for not completing his mission, and if he was expelled, he'd lose a once-in-a-lifetime chance to learn something that would be beneficial to his search for the Philosopher's Stone. He hadn't even lasted two weeks. Harry seemed to be thinking the same thing as he stared gloomily at the walls as if it was the last time he'd see them.

Professor McGonagall stopped outside the Charms classroom and poked her head in.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, but may I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? Was that some kind of wizard punishment stick, other than wands? Harry looked pale.

Wood turned out to be a burly, fifth-year boy that looked completely and utterly confused as he stepped out of the classroom.

"Follow me, you three," Professor McGonagall said briskly, turning and hurrying down the hall. "In here." She pointed them into a mostly empty classroom, where the only occupant was Peeves, who was writing curse words on the chalkboard. Ed didn't particularly like Peeves - the poltergeist had called him short ten times already and tried to trip him almost daily.

"Out, Peeves!" Professor McGonagall commanded. Peeves cackled happily, throwing the chalk at Ed's head before soaring out of the room, cursing all the way. McGonagall slammed the door closed behind him. Ed rubbed his head where the chalk had hit, now covered in a fine white powder.

"This is Oliver Wood. Wood, I've found you a Seeker."

Wood changed from confusion to delight.

"Are you serious?" he asked in an excited, high-pitched voice. Ed vaguely remembered Ron mentioning a 'Seeker' when he was explaining Quidditch to them. He made a face, since Ron had been interrupted before he could explain a 'Seeker' and he had no idea what he was getting into. Harry was still awkwardly standing off to the side, not having any reason to say anything or do anything.

"I am absolutely serious," Professor McGonagall said with a dead-serious look on her face. "He's a natural. I've never seen anything like it." She turned to Ed. "Was that your first time on a broom?"

"From what I know," Ed snorted. "I'm sure I would remember riding a _broom_ before today." The Professor ignored his last comment.

"Caught a Remembrall in his hand after a forty-foot dive. Didn't get a scratch. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it any better." Wood looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Ever played Quidditch before?" he asked, speaking so fast that Ed barely understood him. He shook his head mutely.

"Wood is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"He's the right build for a Seeker, too," Wood marvelled, walking around Ed like he was some kind of delectable piece of pie or something. "Speedy, small-"

" _SMALL?!"_

"-light," Wood continued, undeterred. "We'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor. A Cleansweep Seven, at the least, a Nimbus Two Thousand, at best."

"I shall speak with Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall said. "Maybe he'll agree to bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows we need a better team than last year. _Flattened_ by the Slytherins! I couldn't look Professor Snape in the eyes for weeks..." She let her glasses fall a bit lower on her nose and glared at Ed over them. "I better only hear good things about you. If not, I'll have to rethink my decision to not punish you." She finally turned to Harry. "And as for you! Come with me, now." Harry flinched at the sudden harshness of her gaze, then followed her out the door.

* * *

"Detention for a week!" Harry grumbled, shoving potatoes onto his plate. "And Ed gets away scot-free!"

"Maybe I'm just better than you are," Ed suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry responded by putting his hand on Ed's goblet and turning the orange juice into milk with magic. Ed scowled at that, then secretly charmed Harry's potatoes so they tasted like dirty socks. Ron was too busy gaping at Ed to notice that the shepherd's pie that had been halfway to his mouth had fallen off of the fork and into his pumpkin juice.

" _Seeker_?!" he spluttered, and Ed quickly shoved a corn muffin into Ron's mouth to muffle his voice.

"It's supposed to be a secret," he whispered, putting a gloved finger on his lips. Ron seemed to get the point as he swallowed the muffin with difficulty.

"But you've got to be the youngest player in-"

"-about a century," Ed interrupted. "Now shut up and let me eat before I hurt you." Ron promptly stopped speaking, but continued to stare at Ed like he had just said the most delightful thing he had ever heard. Ed sighed, knowing that Ron wanted more.

"I start training for the team next week," he said. At Ron's eager look, he added, "You can come watch if you want." Ron whooped quietly with joy. Ed rolled his eyes and turned back to his breafast. He didn't even jump as two hands suddenly fell onto his shoulders.

"Well done," Fred whispered into his left ear.

"Wood told us," George muttered in his right. "We're on the team, too."

"Beaters," Fred finished. "And I'm betting that we'll be winning the Quidditch cup this year, with your help."

"We haven't won since Charlie left," George added. "But Wood was practically singing when he told us. I reckon that you must be brilliant if even Wood was praising you."

"Anyways," Fred said casually, "we best be heading off. Lee reckons he found a new way out of the school." The hands lifted off of Ed's shoulders as they left, muttering to each other. Ed rolled his eyes, picking up a spoonful of stew. Why he had stew for breakfast? Because why not, that's why.

"Those two are crazy," he mumbled to himself, stuffing the spoon in his mouth.

Only to practically choke it out when he heard a certain annoying, nasally voice right behind him.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "When are you getting on the train to go back to your Muggle family?" Ed turned his head, giving the bandaged Malfoy a harsh glare.

"Actually, Malfoy, _Harry_ only has a week of detention," he said coldly, "while _I_ wasn't punished." At Malfoy's stunned look, he grinned maliciously. "Cry your heart out. It won't change anything."

"I'll take you on anytime you like, Elric," Malfoy snarled. "Tonight, at midnight. A Wizard's Duel. What's the matter - never heard of a Wizard's Duel?"

"I'll take Harry as my second," Ed said coolly. "Who's yours?" Malfoy looked taken aback for a second, then composed himself.

"Crabbe," he said decidedly. "Midnight, got it? Trophy room - it's always unlocked." With that, he turned and flaunted away.

"Blimey, I didn't know you knew about Wizard's Duels!" Ron gasped.

"I read about them," Ed said with a shrug. "They seem fun. Besides, I'd need Harry there to drag my corpse back if I die." Harry shuddered. Ed heard a snort from behind him. He turned to see none other than Hermione Granger, staring at him with a disapproving frown.

"Can't a person eat in peace here?" Ron groaned dramatically. Hermione wisely chose to ignore him.

"I couldn't help overhearing what Malfoy was saying," she started, "and you _mustn't_ go wandering around after curfew! Think of all the points you would lose if you were caught!"

"Not to be rude," Ed said politely, "but it really is none of your business." Hermione looked scandalized.

"Good-bye," Ron said pointedly, and, with a huff of indignation, Hermione turned and marched away.

Not exactly what you'd call a friendly conversation.

* * *

At half past eleven, Ed dragged Harry - and a curious Ron - out of bed. Harry seemed nervous, fingering his wand and glancing back every few minutes.

"What if I can't remember any spells?" he whispered urgently. "What if I mess up and get us humiliated?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Ed said nonchalantly. "We'll be fine. I've been practicing spells for the past... er, I think it was for the last hour and a half or so. Let's go!" Harry didn't look convinced. Suddenly, they all froze as a lamp flicked on. Hermione sat in one of the squishy armchairs a disapproving scowl on her face. She was wearing a pink bathrobe, to Ed's mortification. He quickly averted his eyes.

"You!" Ron growled. "Go back to bed!" Hermione didn't obey as she instead stood and walked straight towards them.

"I almost told Percy - he's a Prefect, he'd stop this!" Ed almost didn't believe that anyone could be this annoying and pushy. Then he recalled Winry and Mustang at their worst moments and thought differently.

"Come on," Ron said brusquely, turning and pushing the other two boys out of the portrait hole. But Hermione persisted, following them through and hissing possible worst-case scenarios. At least, until Ron told her to 'push off'.

"Fine! Just remember that I warned you when you're on the train home tomorrow!" She turned huffily to go back inside. But the portrait was empty - the Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit to someone else's portrait, leaving the four of them locked out. "Now what am I supposed to do?!" Hermione whispered shrilly.

"That's your problem," Ron said. "We've got to go, or we'll be late." Him and Harry turned to leave.

"Sorry, Hermione," Ed apologized, bowing slightly before chasing after his friends. Hermione stood, dumb-struck for a few seconds, then ran after them.

"I'm coming, too!"

"No, you're _not_!" Ron growled.

"Do you think I'll just sit and _wait_ for Filch to catch me? If he finds us, then I'll tell him the truth. I'll say I was trying to stop you, and Ed will back me up." Harry and Ron gave Ed reproachful looks, which he shrugged off. He suddenly whipped out his arm to stop Harry from stepping on a lumpy, snoring _something_. The four of them stared, wide-eyed and terrified that it was Mrs. Norris, until Ed crouched down and jabbed the thing in the side. There was a tiny yelp of surprise and pain, and the thing fell over into a patch of moonlight to reveal... Neville.

"Oh, thank goodness you found me!" he panted. "I've been stuck out here for hours, since I couldn't remember the password to get to bed!"

"Keep your voice down," Ed scolded, putting his hand over Neville's mouth to shush him. "The password is 'pig snout'. It won't help you now - the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"Well, we better get going," Harry said hastily, shuffling off down the hall. The other three followed him, and with a squeak of panic, Neville followed.

"Don't leave me alone!" he gasped. Ed winced, hating how much that sounded like Al whenever Ed suggested going off by himself. "The Bloody Baron's been by twice already!" Ron glared, and Ed took out his watch and checked the time.

"If we don't hurry up, we'll be late," he pointed out. "If any of you make another noise that might attract Filth's attention, I'll personally see to it that you never make a noise again." He turned away, completely aware of the shivers of fear his fellow Gryffindors were sporting. They all tried their best to be silent after that, but compared to Ed, they were like elephants trying to be mice. Ed withheld a sigh as Ron accidentally startled a painting awake, and he quickly used a _Silencio_ on the portrait. Its mouth was left hanging open in a soundless shout of anger as they scurried along.

They flew along the corridors, not stopping until they had reached the trophy room. Ed shooed the three extras away so he wouldn't look like a wimp bringing all his friends with him. That is, until a voice that wasn't Malfoy's spoke.

"Sniff around, my sweet... They might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filth.

Struck with a sudden bout of horror, Harry turned to the extra three. Together, the four of them fled noisily - in Ed's ears - from the trophy room. They must have been quiet enough, because just as Ed had left the room, Filth entered, having not noticed their presence at all.

But there was a giant crash as, with a squeak, Neville tripped, bringing himself and Ron down on a suit of armor. So much for being quiet.

"RUN!" Harry yelled stupidly, and all of them broke into a sprint. Harry was in the lead, but not for long as Ed quickly overtook them and guided them to an empty classroom. Hermione was gasping, clutching her side.

"I - _told_ \- you!" she wheezed.

 _"Mrow."_

All of them froze. Ed turned his head to see Mrs. Norris, sitting casually behind them, yellow eyes aglow with triumph. Ed gulped silently, while the other four stood stock-still. Ed slowly approached the cat, taking the glove off of his left hand.

"Hey, kitty," he whispered soothingly. "You won't go and get Filch, right? You won't let me get in trouble, will you?" He stretched his hand out and let Mrs. Norris sniff his fingers, his friends watching with bated breath. Mrs. Norris stretched her neck out slightly, cautiously sniffing his hand. Ed tried not to flinch as her cold, wet nose touched his fingers. After what felt like eternity, Mrs. Norris let out a small, rumbling purr and rubbed her face into Ed's palm. Gently, he stroked her behind her ears. She purred louder.

"H-how did you do that?" Ron whispered, almost not daring to believe his eyes.

"I don't know," Ed admitted softly, lifting Mrs. Norris into his arms so that she could tuck her head under his chin. The cat seemed perfectly content to just purr in his arms, and he couldn't seem to find a way to put her down without making her feel offended so she'd whisk off for Filth. He allowed her to climb onto his shoulders, laying down so she looked like a fuzzy, half-scarf with glowing yellow eyes, pushing her face into his hair.

"L-let's get back to bed," Harry said shakily, eyeing Mrs. Norris with incredulity and wariness.

Unfortunately, Filth started coming down the hall. They turned and dashed away from the loud footsteps, coming across a door that looked promising. But it was locked. Ed fumbled for his wand, but Hermione beat him to it.

 _"Alohomora!"_ They all tumbled inside, closing the door quickly closing the door behind them. Mrs. Norris had stopped purring, ducking her head low and swishing her tail agitatedly. Filth walked right by them, muttering about 'Peeves and his accursed chalk'. Ed could sympathize with the man, but he chose not to since Filth was a nasty jerk.

He froze as Mrs. Norris hissed and a wet, heavy breath blew across the back of his neck.

He had been jumped on by too many dogs to not know that this breathing was the damp, smelly breath of a giant dog.

He slowly turned his head. As he thought, there was... three dogs? No, wait, it was a Cerberus. A three- _headed_ dog. A gigantic, shocked-silent Cerberus. Mrs. Norris dug her sharp claws into his shoulders and spat. Ed barely had time to glace at the floor under the dog before low growling filled the room.

Ed quickly reached over, threw the door open, and shoved everybody out of the way before ducking out of the way of a slobber-covered mouth aiming on biting him in half. He squeezed out the door and slammed it closed, just as the Cerberus barked. Extremely loudly. Mrs. Norris sprang off of his shoulder and disappeared around the corner.

As for the Gryffindors? They ran like Hell back to the common room, only pausing to shout the password at the Fat Lady, who looked bemused and slightly frightened by Ed's fierce glare. They all collapsed into armchairs, trembling and exhausted. Ed was the first to speak.

"Well that was... enlightening," he said sarcastically. Ron and Harry laughed weakly.

"You think?" Ron said huffily. "I just learned there's a freaking three-headed dog-"

"Cerberus," Ed corrected tiredly.

"-in the school that tried to kill us!" Ron finished, waving his arms slightly. "I can't believe Professor Dumbledore'd let it _stay_ in the school!"

"Morons. All of you," Ed grumbled, just as Hermione said, "You don't use your eyes, do you?" Both glanced at each other, slightly miffed that they had spoken at the same time. The Hermione took a breath.

"Didn't you see what it was standing on?" she asked Harry, Neville, and Ron. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"I was looking at its heads, not its feet," Harry said with a frown.

"Like I said. Morons," Ed sighed, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"We're not morons!" Ron objected heatedly. "We were running for our lives!"

"That I saved," Ed snorted. "Anyways, the Cerberus was standing on a trapdoor." Both Harry and Ron threw their hands in the air, while Neville blinked in confusion.

"What does that have to do with anything?! It's a _trapdoor_!" Harry shouted, exasperated and exhausted.

"Trapdoors aren't that interesting, you know!" Ron agreed loudly.

"And it could be hiding something!" Ed snarled back. "You never know what could be hiding behind a door - a serial killer, or a fuzzy bunny!" Ron snorted at the thought. "Yeah, you just keep laughing. I'm going to bed," Ed said coldly, realizing that none of them except Hermione saw the importance of this discovery. He tromped quietly up the stairs, then threw himself onto his bed without changing.

"Stupid gits," he growled to himself, then paused when he realized what he had just said. "Ah, fuck it. It's fun to say." He dropped his head on his pillow. And he let himself fall into sleep, free of nightmares for the first time in a few long months.

* * *

The next day, Harry and Ron seemed to have forgotten about Ed calling them morons and sat themselves on either side of him. He swallowed his food and uttered a 'good morning' before digging into a plate of... something. Whatever - it tasted good. When he glanced up once more, he was met with the sight of a stunned Malfoy. He grinned widely at Malfoy, showing off his slightly sharper than normal teeth, then ducked his head so he could inhale a cup of pumpkin juice. All the while listening to Harry muttering about the Bank of Gringotts to Ron.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," Ron said factually.

"Or both," Harry pointed out. He turned to Neville, as if wanting to talk about it, but Neville adamantly refused to speak about what they had seen last night. Hermione seemed to agree with Neville, pointedly not speaking to any of them except Ed. Harry and Ron saw it as a win-win, since they believed that Hermione was annoying and that Ed needed to talk to someone else about his unhealthy obsession with finding the library. Hermione had tried to help, saying she'd lead him to it, but once she caught sight of Harry, she turned up her nose and walked off without Ed. The poor alchemist had nothing fun or entertaining to do, so he turned to Ron and Harry for help. But all they seemed to think about was getting even with Malfoy for tricking them.

And that chance came a week later, in the form of six large screech owls carrying a giant parcel and a tiny note. Ed glanced at Ron, who was telling him to just open the package, and promptly tore open the letter. Good for him, since it told him to not open the thing at the table. He showed it to Ron, who looked disappointed.

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Ed stood up. "Let's go put it in the common room! We'll open it tonight, after classes." Ron frowned, wanting to open it right then and there, but agreed and followed Ed to the common room. Harry trailed behind, just as curious.

They were only halfway there when Ed spotted Malfoy stalking down the halls. With a grin, Ed shoved the package in Malfoy's face, said, "Suck it, Malfoy!" then continued on his way, Harry and Ron laughing appropriately at his joke while Malfoy spluttered.

They marched one by one into their dorm, and Ed quickly stowed the package under his bed where it was hidden from sight by his curtains. Harry and Ron wouldn't stop grinning, and though Ed didn't care much for the sport or the broom, he smiled along with them.

"Well, since we need to get to classes, we should probably hurry up and go."

* * *

Ed had to keep reaching over and shaking Ron or Harry out of random dazes as they thought about the Nimbus Two Thousand. It was slightly confusing, the way the two obsessed over it and how the owner of it didn't seem to care all that much.

At dinner, Ron and Harry shovelled down food even faster than Ed - an achievement worthy of praise, in Ed's view - and kept encouraging Ed to do the same. Out of pure annoyance, he ate even slower than he usually did, making the two fidget with contained excitement. He grinned inwardly. He had always enjoyed making other people squirm.

Finally, he sighed in contentment and stood. Ron and Harry each took one of his arms and began to drag him away; Ron had a worse time, since he had taken the right arm. Ed didn't do anything to help at all. He dragged his heels, stopped once to go to the bathroom, and even backtracked since he claimed he lost his Potions book somewhere in the North hall. The two other boys were practically bursting with impatience by the time they stepped foot into the Gryffindor common room, and bolted up the stairs. Ed followed more slowly, rolling his eyes. Wizards and their Quidditch - seriously.

Once he actually made it to his bed, Ron and Harry had dragged the broom out from under the bed and were waiting for him to open it. Ron's fingers were visibly twitching with the effort of not tearing it open himself. Ed made a big show of carefully taking the paper off, trying to not rip it.

"Just tear it open already!" Ron burst out. Ed sniffed in annoyance, though he grinned widely as he viciously ripped the paper to pieces as he unwrapped the broom.

Ron cheered loudly as the rich mahogany broom rolled onto the bed. Even Ed was slightly impressed, and he thought this all was a bunch of bullshit. The twigs on the end were clipped and straightened neatly, the handle was shining, and 'Nimbus Two Thousand' shone in gold near the top. He decided that he wouldn't use this broom as a cleaning utensil after all.

After he let Ron and Harry admire the broom a little longer, he hefted it onto his shoulder.

"I'm going to the Quidditch field," he said boredly. "You coming, Ron?" The readhead eagerly stood. Harry followed soon after.

"Think I could come, too?" he asked timidly. Ed shrugged.

"Whatever. Not like I can stop you anyways."

* * *

As Ed stepped onto the Quidditch field, he frowned. It was open and prone to bad weather - something that would clash badly with his automail. He shifted the broom uncomfortably on his shoulder.

"Go on, give it a go!" Ron encouraged, looking eager.

"Maybe you should go into the stands first," Ed suggested. "If I fall off this thing, you don't want to be my cushion." Ron and Harry reluctantly pulled back into the stands, and Ed watched them until he was sure they wouldn't come running onto the pitch randomly. He climbed onto the broom (Now that he thought about it, he felt pretty stupid sitting on a broom) and kicked off into the air.

He would admit to himself, but not to anybody else, that he thought this was actually pretty neat. Though he had only ridden in a plane once before, he never wanted to do that again. Sure, it worked on science and science alone, but the idea of something as big, mechanical, and heavy as that flying through the sky scared him. The freedom he felt while riding a broom, which he never thought he'd do in his whole life, was invigorating.

The other, half-bald broom he had used before was like dirt compared to a diamond. This broom didn't wobble at all, took his weight readily, and responded to his slightest movement.

Maybe, just _maybe_ , he could see why wizards enjoyed Quidditch so much.

He was having so much fun that it took Wood a whole five minutes of yelling before Ed actually heard him.

"Sorry, boss, didn't see you there," he said, saluting mockingly. Wood rolled his eyes, though he looked amused.

"I can see what McGonagall meant by you being a natural," he complimented. "Very nice flying."

"Oh, you do flatter me so," Ed said, flapping his hand dismissively. "So, what are we doing today?"

"Well, for starters, I'll be telling you all the rules," said Wood. "Then you can join the team practices. There's three a week."

"Ron told me some about Quidditch," Ed remembered, casting a glance at Ron, who had been cheering him on loudly from the stands.

"Excellent. So you know what a Quaffle is? And a Chaser?"

"I know about the rules, Keeper, Chasers, Bludgers, Beaters, Quaffle, and the scoring, but I have no idea what a Seeker is," Ed deadpanned.

"Well, that makes it a little easier," Wood sighed. "So you know what this is for, right?" He handed Ed a baseball bat. At least, it looked like one. It was shorter and heavier than one.

"This is what the Beaters use, right?"

"Correct. How good are your reflexes?"

"Huh?"

Before Ed knew what he was doing, he had swung the baseball bat as hard as he could at a black ball that darted straight for his face. The ball bounced off of the bat with a crack, flying off a distance away before turning and coming back. This time, it went for Wood, who pinned it to the ground and managed to wrestle it back into the box.

"Very nice - you could probably be a Beater if you really wanted to," he said, though Ed was scowling.

"Warn me next time!" he said hotly. "I could've broken my face!"

"Nah, I trusted you," Wood said flippantly, though he quickly changed the subject. He pulled out a big, red ball from the box. "This red ball is-"

"The Quaffle," Ed said flatly. "The Chasers throw it into the hoops, right?"

"Right," Wood agreed.

"Hey, I have a question," Ed said abruptly as Wood put the Quaffle back inside the box. "Have the Bludgers killed anybody yet?" Wood paled slightly at the curious, eager tone to Ed's voice.

"No, but there have been a few broken bones," he said uneasily. Ed sniffed.

"Damn, that isn't much fun," he grumbled to himself, not caring that Wood had heard him.

The Gryffindor Keeper was beginning to wonder if McGonagall had the right idea in putting this first-year on the Quidditch team.

"Yo, Ed!" Ron suddenly called. "Are you going to do anything?"

"Not yet!" Ed shouted back. Ron and Harry frowned, crossing their arms and sinking lower in their seats. At some point, Ron had gotten a hold of a pack of Exploding Snap cards and was explaining the game to Harry.

"Anyways," Wood said pointedly, reaching into the box and pulling out the last, smallest ball, "this is the Snitch. Your only job is to catch it. When you do, the game is over, and you score your team a hundred and fifty points." Ed whistlesd lowly, examining the tiny, golden ball about the size of a golf ball. It had transparent, silvery wings and little ridges all over it. "You also have to catch it before the other team's Seeker. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught. It could go on forever. I think the record is three months; they had to keep bringing in substitutes so the players wouldn't pass out." Ed snorted silently in laughter. Only four weeks ago, he would have laughed his head off if someone had told him that he would be riding brooms and talking about a sport called _Quidditch_ like it was normal.

"Well, that's it, I guess. Any questions?" Wood said brightly. Ed shook his head.

"Three Chasers score with the Quaffle, Keeper guards the posts, Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team, and the Seeker catches the Snitch. Missing anything?" he asked, smiling slyly. Wood looked slightly surprised that he remembered all of that, but shook it off quickly as he nodded.

"We won't practice with the Snitch today - it's so small, we might lose it." Ed twitched slightly. "We'll practice with these." He produced a bag of ordinary golf balls (Where did that come from?) and shook it a bit.

Minutes later, with Harry and Ron cheering, Ed was swooping and gliding through the air, feeling very stupid indeed as he snatched golf balls out of midair. Sure, he didn't miss a single one (And he felt sort of proud of himself for that) but it still felt and sounded strange to ride on a _broom_ like in those typical witch stories. After a half an hour - which couldn't have gone by fast enough - Wood called it a day.

"The Quidditch Cup is ours this year!" he said confidently. "I wouldn't be surprised if you end up even better than Charlie Weasley, and he could have played for England if he hadn't had a bloody obsession with dragons." Ed could relate with Charlie on that. Once he found the library, he was going to find every book on dragons as he could. He wasn't sure if they were Chimeras, or if they were actual 'magical' creatures.

* * *

Ed wasn't sure what happened - one second, the year couldn't go by fast enough, and the next thing he knew, it was October second. He knew, before he even looked at the calender, what the next day was by the slight, phantom aching in his ports. It was different from humidity or even malfunctioning pain - the phantom pain was simply a dull throb along the whole length of his unfeeling arm and leg, though he no longer had any skin there to hurt. He was slightly distracted during lessons, something every teacher and Hermione noticed.

"Ed, what's wrong?" Hermione asked softly as they entered Charms. Ed jumped, as if just noticing that she was there.

"Oh, hello, Holly - I mean, Hermione," he said distantly, flopping into his seat and pulling out one of his notebooks. He started to doodle in it, making complex, half-completed Transmutation Circles and writing notes in the margins. Hermione, who had finally gotten back on speaking terms with Ron and Harry because of Ed's efforts, raised an eyebrow at the Boy-Who-Lived and the freckled redhead.

It didn't get any better as the day went on. In fact, it seemed to get worse. During Herbology, Ed had accidentally knocked over a pot of nettle, making it stick to his robes. In Potions, he had put Dragon's Blood into his potion when he wasn't supposed to, making it turn a sickly green and spark wildly. Snape had given him a concerned glance as he cleared the potion away, then turned away as if nothing happened. In Transfiguration, he reacted horribly as McGonagall transformed a hedgehog into a pincushion, throwing his cushion across the room and stomping out of the room, gaining about a week's worth of detention on the way.

After classes finally ended, Hermione, Harry, and Ron hurried to the common room, hoping to catch Ed before he disappeared again. But when Ron went to go check the dorms, Ed's curtains were drawn and the room was dark.

"He's sleeping," he said irritably to his friends. "Nutty bloke's been acting weird all day!"

"He's not nutty!" Hermione huffed. "He's probably just tired, or he could've gotten bad news from home!"

There was a pause.

"Where does he live?" Harry asked absently.

"Amestris," Ron replied. "He told us."

"Where's that?" Hermione demanded. Ron shrugged.

"I don't know. He didn't say, and I didn't ask." Hermione huffed, obviously disappointed, but didn't ask any more.

Meanwhile, Ed wasn't sleeping like they thought. Sure, the curtains were drawn on his four-poster, but he wasn't in the bed. He was sitting on the roof, his owl perched on his head as he stared up at the stars.

"I dunno, owl," Ed sighed. "I mean tomorrow's the day. Should I skip classes? Try to act normal?" The owl hooted quietly, flapping its wings silently. Ed snorted. "Great help you are, huh?" The owl pecked his head, and he yelped and tried to swat it away. The owl simply took off into the sky, fluttering away and far out of his reach. He cursed in Amestrian, letting off some steam before flopping down onto his back. The moon was bright and full, illuminating everything in a watery silver light. He looked around a bit, pausing when he saw a tree that seemed to be _moving_ , even though there was no wind. He watched as it shook out its branches, curling them close to itself before going still.

"Well, that wasn't logic-defying or strange at all," he muttered, shifting his arms to pillow under his head.

Before he knew it, he had fallen into a restless sleep right on the rooftop.

* * *

He awoke to a single rain drop hitting his nose. His face twitched, and he lifted his hand to rub the drop away. Only for another to smack into his eye. He huffed in annoyance, wiping the water away and opening his eyes.

The sky was a twisting, stormy grey. Rain was just starting to sprinkle the ground. With a grunt, Ed pulled himself up and swung into his dorm. Everybody was already gone, and when he grabbed his watch and flicked it open, it was almost noon.

He closed the watch and tossed it onto his bed. His curtains were open, probably because the other boys had thought he was in there and tried to 'wake him up'. He sighed to himself, tossing his robes off since he hadn't changed before he climbed onto the roof. He grabbed his usual clothes - the long red jacket, elevated boots, and all black underneath his jacket. He peered outside into the common room, relieved when he found it empty. He slipped out of the room, ignoring the Fat Lady's indignant shouts about how lazy he was and how he wasn't wearing the proper school uniform. He wandered down the halls, recalling that everyone would be at lunch right now.

Somehow, he made it up to the seventh floor. He looked around at the suits of armor lining the hall.

"Kinda makes a guy feel lonely, huh?" he muttered to himself, his voice echoing quietly and eerily around the corridor. He shivered, realizing how much it sounded like Truth.

"Don't think about that," he snapped to himself. "Don't go there." He turned abruptly into an empty classroom, with only a couple dusty desks and a giant chalkboard covering three of the four walls. He paused, glancing around a bit. There was a box of unused chalk in the corner.

With a grim smile, he grabbed a piece of the almost-like-new piece of chalk and started to write.

The chalk practically flew over the walls, creating perfect circles, squares, triangles, pentagons, and every other geometrical shape you can think of. Complex, yet simple, Transmutation Circles sprung to life beneath the white stick. Circles for simple things like turning water into ice or turning grass into bread. Circles for harder things, like healing bruises and Transmuting lead to iron. He drew and drew for hours on end, not paying attention to the time and barely caring at all as his fingers blistered and cramped from writing for so long.

* * *

"Has anybody seen Elric today?" Professor McGonagall asked during Transfiguration. There was a murmur from the class saying that, no, they hadn't caught a single glimpse of the reclusive blond. McGonagall sniffed disapprovingly, then picked up Neville's teacup and transformed it fully back into a teacup, for it had sprouted legs and had tried to run off.

* * *

"Where d'you suppose he is?" Ron asked at dinner, filling his plate with pasta.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied. "I thought he went to bed last night, but he didn't even sleep in his bed."

"He wasn't at the library," Hermione put in, remembering how, every time she entered the library for the past week, Ed had been there, sitting on top of a shelf or in the middle of a cluster of books. Always reading through some old, dusty tome whose title she couldn't read.

"You don't suppose he ran off?" Ron thought aloud, accidentally putting ketchup in his mashed potatoes.

"Why would he do that?" Harry made a face. "Even though he is a bit strange and likes creepy stuff, that doesn't mean he'd run off without an explanation."

"That bloke's a nutter, I say," Ron insisted, pointing his spoon at Harry. "I lived with him for a while. Strange and crazy. That's what he is."

"It's rude to call someone crazy before you even know them properly," Hermione huffed. "You don't even know anything about his parents, or his family."

"He says he has a brother," Ron recalled. "Don't know much about his parents, though. Doesn't sound like he likes them much, does it?"

"My parents are Muggles. Dentists," Hermione said. "But I still like them."

"My dad works at the Ministry, and my mum stays at home and cleans. Pure-blood," Ron told them. "They're annoying and everything, but they're alright."

"I don't know about my parents," Harry said miserably.

"What about the people you live with?" Ron asked hastily.

"They're awful. I hate them," Harry spat. "I lived in a cupboard for ten years!"

"Well, doesn't your life just royally suck?" All three of them jumped, then whipped around. Ed was standing behind them, a small, exhausted smile on his red-tinted face. He was covered in chalk dust, and was wearing the clothes he wore on the train before he changed into his robes.

"Ed! Where have you been, mate?" Ron demanded. Ed shrugged, flopping down in the space between Hermione and Ron.

"Out and about," he said vaguely, not reaching for a plate. "Found an empty classroom, though. I didn't know they taught Alchemy here."

"Oh, they do," Hermione said eagerly. "Not very often, mind you, but it happens once in a while." Ed hummed slightly, staring at a gravy boat and counting the number of encrusted jewels on the rim.

"Do you know who the last teacher was?" he asked softly.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I think it was Nicolas Flamel while he was working with Dumbledore," Hermione said. Ed nodded, accepting the answer calmly. At least on the outside. On the inside, his tortured, muddled mind was running thousands of miles per hour. Nicolas Flamel, the owner of the symbol his teacher carried and passed on to him, was here in the wizarding world. He was said to have disappeared hundreds of years ago, but who knew if it could be the exact same person or not?

"I'm not hungry," Ed said flatly, pushing away from the table. None of the Professors had noticed his presence, too busy whispering amongst themselves about something.

* * *

Before Ed had gone to dinner, he had gone into one of the bathrooms and scrubbed his face almost raw, trying to rub away the tearstains that had marred his face. He didn't want to be shown as weak in front of his newest friends. They were the first friends he ever had - besides Al and Winry, of course - that were close to his age. He didn't want to scare them off by looking pitiful and helpless. He stared in a mirror, trying to ignore the way his reflection grinned cheekily back at him as he braided his hair.

 _"Too much vanity will steal your sanity,"_ his reflection sang.

"Shut up," was Ed's ever-so-clever comeback as he scrubbed his knuckles harshly under the running water. He didn't notice as his automail scraped off his skin, causing it to bleed. He wiped his wet hands off on a paper towel, being careful with his automail and ignoring how the towel was stained red when he threw it away.

* * *

Ed had left the hall unhindered, and did not appear again until just before curfew. Hermione was the first to notice his bloodied hand as he settled silently into an armchair close to the fire.

"Ed! What happened?" she gasped, grabbing his hand and holding it close to her face so she could examine it. Ed shrugged, not really in the helpful mood.

"It's bleeding."

"But why?" Hermione pressed, fumbling around for her wand and producing bandages and disinfectant out of thin air. Harry and Ron watched quietly as she set about cleaning and bandaging Ed's fingers and knuckles, the owner of the appendages watching carefully and not answering her questions.

"There," Hermione sighed, tying off a bandage on his thumb. "You should probably see Madam Pomfrey about it tomorrow. For now, I'm going to bed." She stood, bidding them goodnight and heading to her dorm.

"Thanks," Ed called after her, and she dismissed it with a wave. But not without a few more suspicious, confused glances aimed straight for Ed. As soon as she had disappeared, Harry and Ron turned to Ed.

"Where've you been all day?" Harry frowned. "And none of that 'anywhere and everywhere' stuff. I mean for real." Ed sighed heavily.

"I really was just out," he admitted. "This morning, I was on the roof. Then I was wondering the halls around lunch. Then I found an empty classroom and stayed there until dinner. Now I'm here with you two. There isn't much to tell, unless you want me to tell you just how many steps I took all day and how many breaths I've drawn for the past hour." Ron made a face.

"You don't even know that stuff," he scoffed. Ed raised an eyebrow.

"I've taken four thousand eighty-seven steps since I've woken up. In the past hour, I've drawn one thousand and four breaths." Ron gaped at him, and Ed met his gaze evenly. He glanced away as Harry suddenly let out a yawn, then quickly stifled it when he realized Ed was watching him.

"Maybe we should just go to bed," Ed suggested quietly. "I'm tired, and my fingers are cramped." Just to prove his point, he held up his bandaged left hand. His fingers shook and twitched right in front of their eyes.

"Just how much did you write to make your fingers all messed up like that?" Ron muttered. "Forget I asked," he added quickly when Ed opened his mouth to answer. Ed's eyes sparked slightly in amusement.

The other two boys were relieved. Slightly. They had been worried about their friend since they found his bed empty in the morning. When they finally saw him, his eyes had been dull and vacuous, no emotion showing through his muted golden orbs. He had the look of a dead boy walking, and gave the impression an added boost when he spoke in a flat, toneless voice.

But the fire that had been in his eyes just the day before had come back, if only for a split second of enjoyment.

* * *

"Get up, you lazy slug!"

Ed shoved Ron off of the bed, sending the boy head-first into the floor. Ron snapped to a sitting position, rubbing his head vigorously.

"I already told you! I'm no slug!" he hissed, already wide awake from pain and indignancy. Ed rolled his eyes, and Ron stopped rubbing his head when he realized that Ed's eyes were alight with mischief. Back to normal.

"Well, if you aren't a slug, then prove it!" he taunted. "Race you to the common room!" He turned and dashed away.

"Hey! I didn't even change yet!" Ron hollered after him, pulling himself up and shaking his head. Harry, who was sitting on his bed and packing his books into his bag, glanced at Ron with a grin. Light glinted off of his glasses from the window, hinting that it had stopped raining.

"He's back." Ron smiled back.

"Yup."

But both of them winced when they heard a few consecutive crashes and curses, courtesy of Ed falling down the stairs.

"THE STAIRS TRIPPED ME!"

* * *

As Ed shoved down a meal big enough for three people, sporting a few new bandages on his cheek and forehead, Hermione was showing him a book she had found on Alchemy. He was nodding along with what she was saying as she pointed to something, then swallowed and pointed to something else with a quiet whisper of an explanation. Hermione nodded vigorously.

"I'm going to check out more when I have the chance," she said happily, stowing the book in her bag. "Alchemy is actually really interesting!"

"Like I don't know that," Ed muttered under his breath, hiding his face in a goblet of orange juice.

"Speaking of Alchemy, did you know that Dumbledore worked on Alchemy, too?" Ron produced a card of Dumbledore out of practically nowhere. Hermione sighed, obviously annoyed.

"Really, Ron, you can't just go through life getting your knowledge from the back of trading cards," she admonished. "If you paid half the attention in class as you did to Quidditch and cards, you would have a lot better grades!"

"Well, I'm sorry for not being a nosy know-it-all like you!" Ron snapped back, obviously insulted. Hermione flushed, then shoved her plate away, stood, and marched off angrily.

"Smooth, Ron," Ed said sarcastically. "Best comeback ever. The girls will definitely love you now."

"Shut up." Ron's ears matched his hair as he hid in his plate of bacon.

* * *

"Mr. Elric, where were you yesterday?" Professor McGonagall demanded the second his foot touched the floor of her classroom. Ed rubbed his head sheepishly.

"Can I say for personal reasons?" he asked nervously. "Because I really don't want to talk about it." Professor McGonagall blinked, and understanding crossed her face.

"I understand. Take your seat." Ed nodded to her, then slid into his seat behind Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived twisted around to stare at him.

"I didn't think you'd be let off so easy!" he commented quietly. Ed shrugged.

"I'm sure Dumbledore has told her about my... hometown's situation," he muttered back. He knew that this brought more questions instead of answering them, but he refused to elaborate any further.

"Ron told us that you lived in some place called Amestris," Harry whispered. "Where's that, at least?"

"It's a three day's travel from here," Ed said vaguely. "It's pretty far. And it's a lot warmer than this place." He glanced out the window, where rain had started to fall again. He scowled at it and rubbed his shoulder unconsciously.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked, noticing the rubbing. Ed glanced at him, then put his hand in his lap instead.

"I'm fine," he lied. "I just hate rain sometimes." Harry nodded in understanding.

"It is kind of depressing, isn't it?"

Ed didn't get a chance to answer as Professor McGonagall called for their attention.

* * *

"Oi, Ed!" Ron said right after class. "What was with you and McGonagall? She let you off easy!"

"Maybe it's because I'm amazing and actually _listen_ sometimes," Ed suggested half-heartedly. He was already tired of questioning, thanks to the nosy Harry Potter. His shoulder and thigh hurt, and he had a headache from trying to find the scientific way somebody turned a rock into a baseball.

Obviously, there _was_ no scientific way to do that, but his Alchemy-obsessed brain ironically wouldn't listen to logic and tried to work it out anyways. Ron huffed at the indirect insult, but spoke no more as they entered the Charms classroom.

* * *

By the end of the day, Ed was seriously contemplating on whether to visit Madam Pomfrey or not. Magic was still screwing with his brain, and all day, every teacher had demanded to know where he had been the day before.

These people were even nosier than himself, and that was saying something.

As he entered his dorm room, his owl exploded through the window in a flurry of feathers. He paused to watch as it straggled over to his bed, where it collapsed on his pillow and laid still.

"Well, that doesn't look good," he commented mildly, walking over and leaning over the owl. One of its reproachful eyes glared back up at him as it hooted pitifully.

"Aw, be quiet, I'm trying to fix you," Ed snapped, picking the owl up in his palm and stretching its tiny wings out. There was a small grumble that originated from his throat. One of the owl's wings was bent awkwardly, with the feathers crumpled and broken. He whistled lowly.

"Wow. What did you do to yourself?" he remarked, letting its wings fold back to its sides. The owl stayed silent as it glared at him, and he calmly took the letter tied to its leg and set it on his bed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm bringing you to Hagrid. He'll know what to do." He turned and left the dorm, ignoring Ron, Harry, and Hermione's confused looks as he strode past them with a small, black feather ball in his hand.

* * *

After dropping the owl off at Hagrid's hut, Ed went back into his dorm and picked up the letter. It was from Mustang. With a raised eyebrow, he opened the official-looking envelope.

Mustang's slightly messy, though surprisingly legible, handwriting almost covered the page. To most people, it would look like a very long letter about the Colonel's girlfriend and all her friends. But to a hardcore code-breaker like Ed, it was a warning.

Denny, Octavia, Nicole, Tabitha, Terry, Ruth, Ursula, Sarah, Traci, Thalia, Holly, Emma, Makayla.

DONTTRUSTTHEM.

Don't trust them.

He wondered why a message such as this would cause his owl so much trouble. Ed already didn't trust anybody, only became acquainted with some of the other students to hopefully gather gossip and information. Plus, it would make him even more suspicious if he was alone all the time like some kind of loner. He had already caught the whispers and pointing people were aiming at him and Harry - him because of his odd looks and being called out of line for the Sorting. He more than once caught a few first-year girls watching him and giggling whenever he snapped at them to stop staring. Seamus obviously didn't like him much, considering every time Ed turned to ask him something or tell him anything the boy turned up his nose and ignored him.

Maybe it was because he figured out that Ed was cursing at him the day he visited Hagrid's house.

There was only a small add-on to the same warning from Hawkeye telling him to be careful. He tossed the letter into a drawer in his bedside table. He could reply later.

For now, he tossed off his school clothes, donned his usual outfit, and set off for the library, which he had eventually found.

He was going looking for dragons.

* * *

Hours later, just half an hour before curfew, Madam Pince found him sitting atop a bookshelf filled with books only about dragons. Ed's head was bent low, back hunched over, with his legs crossed, neatly hiding him from the sight of people looking up from below. Pince only found him when he shifted, accidentally knocking a book to the floor.

" _What_ in _Merlin_ are you doing, boy?!" she gasped, pulling out her wand but not knowing what to do with it. Ed removed his eyes from the work of literature to glance down.

"Oh, hello, Madam Pince," he greeted, slightly tonelessly. "I was reading." He reached into his pocket and took out his watch. Flicking it open, he checked the time, then put it back in his pocket. "And now I must be going." He jumped off the shelf - making Pince gasp because it was well over ten feet tall - and started to walk away, a couple of books in his hands. Madam Pince watched him leave, flabberghasted.

Then she turned and saw the mess of books upon the floor and piled on top of the bookshelves and nearly fainted.

* * *

A couple weeks later, Ed held the _Monster Book of Monsters_ up to his face as he absently recited the password. The Fat Lady eyed him strangely as he slipped into the common room, not even glancing up as he flopped into a chair. Hermione, the only other person in the room, looked up.

"Where have you been?" she asked, not rudely. The two of them had actually become quite good friends, bonding over a love of books and their smarts. Hermione was delighted to have someone to hold an intelligent conversation with.

Ed just thought that Ron and Harry were too stupid to actually talk about anything worthwhile. Seriously, they didn't even _play_ Quidditch, and they still found some way to talk about it every minute of every day! _He_ was the Quidditch player, and he almost couldn't care less about the damn game!

Hermione was obviously relieved that he wasn't a blundering Quidditch freak like every other boy in the school.

"Honestly! It would do them some good to stop fooling around on broomsticks for a few hours and actually study!" she ranted once to Ed, who sat politely and listened, occasionally nodding his head. He had mastered the art of listening without really listening, focusing his mind on other things and just letting his brain absorb whatever the person was saying. Hermione had yet to notice that he wasn't totally focused upon her and continued talking about how Ron and Harry should start doing their own homework.

"What's that?" Hermione said suddenly, spotting the open book sitting on his lap. Ed lifted it up slightly so she could catch a glimpse of the cover. Her eyebrows raised up slightly. "Oh, that book? I couldn't get it to calm down enough to actually read it." Now it was Ed's turn to lift an eyebrow.

"Really? I had no trouble with it at all," he commented lightly, putting it back down in his lap and continuing in his studies. Hermione looked mildly surprised, before she shrugged and pulled out her own books.

They read until Ron and Harry noisily burst into the room, blabbering on about Ron's brother, Charlie.

* * *

"What did you just say?"

Hermione looked up.

"What?"

"About Charms."

"That we'll be making things fly today?"

Ed slammed his fist on the table, making everyone in the near vicinity jump. Ed started muttering what sounded suspiciously like death threats under his breath as he pushed his breakfast plate away. At Hermione's look, he said, "Not hungry anymore." She sniffed, acknowledging his statement, though she didn't look happy as she stuck her nose back in the book.

"Hey! Edward!" He half turned his head. There was a gril standing behind him, shuffling her feet and giggling uncontrollably. He sighed.

"What?" he asked wearily.

"Are you single?" Ed paused. He hadn't been asked that one before. People had asked if he was dating Hermione, considering how close they were, but nobody had ever phrased the question so bluntly.

"Yes...?" he said cautiously. The girl started giggling even more as she turned and ran back to her group of friends. Ed watched, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before turning to Hermione.

"The Hell was that?" Hermione was having trouble stifling her laughter.

"I won't tell!" she squeaked, making Ed even more suspicious.

* * *

"Bloody Hell, mate!" Ron gasped, seeing the sheer amount of papers littering the surface of Ed's bed. "You'd think we had forty essays due tomorrow!"

"Maybe we do," Ed said casually, scribbling away on a particularly long piece of parchment. Ron's eyes widened as his mind worked furiously, trying to remember if they really did have more than one essay due the next day. Ed rolled his eyes.

"It's a personal project," he told the redhead. "Calm down." Ron flushed slightly as he sighed in relief, while Harry had to stifle his laughter.

"What kind of project?" Ron asked, moving to stand beside Ed's bed and watch him write.

"Personal," Ed repeated. He put the piece of parchment down and took up another, this time writing in Amestrian. Ron's eyes soon glazed over.

"Blimey, what kind of language is that?" he muttered, looking at the strange symbols.

"Not English," Ed supplied helpfully. Harry did snicker this time, and Ron shot him a glare.

"Ah, you're boring," he complained. "Come on, Harry, I'll show you how to play Wizard's Chess." Harry agreed quickly, and Ed snorted as they ambled away.

"Sorry for not being entertaining," he said sarcastically, burying himself in his work once more.

Only to look up a few moments later as Harry 'awk'ed in surprise. His pawn was being ruthlessly crushed by Ron's queen. Ed snorted.

"Wow, Harry. I didn't think anybody was worse at chess than Ron. Way to prove me wrong."

"Shut up!" Harry's face burned red as he maneuvered his knight across the board. Ron wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted and settled with pretending like Ed hadn't said a thing.

"Free period's almost over," Ed said, absently checking his watch. Ron groaned, giving Harry the chance to strike at his rook while he was distracted.

"Charms is next, then," Ron said glumly. Ed let himself scowl as he thought of his least-favorite class, just below Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration.

"Yeah, Charms," he snorted to himself, slowly packing his stuff away. "What a joke," he muttered under his breath. Neither Ron nor Harry heard him as they chatted excitedly about what they were doing today, cleaning up the shards of the Chess pieces. He angrily threw his Charms book into his bag, remembering how terrified Neville had been when Professor Flitwick had sent his toad zooming around the room. He knew the frog was fine, but it still upset him that the Laws he had studied and followed all his life were being taken, crumpled, cremated, and buried because of a frog.

He hated it.

So, with much reluctance, he dragged himself out of the common room and out into the corridors, head already spinning with possible theories for how Charms worked. None of which were possible.

They met up with Hermione on their way to Charms, and she talked excitedly with Ed about how much she had studied for this ever since yesterday. Ed nodded along with what she said, starting to climb the stairs.

He was so focused on his thoughts that he forgot to skip the trick step and ended up falling on his face, left leg stuck up to his thigh in the step. Ron and Harry began laughing, while Hermione sighed and started trying to help him out. With every tug she gave on his arm, Ed didn't budge. Finally, out of pure annoyance, he slammed his hands on the ground, steadied his right foot on the step below him, and pulled as hard as he could.

The step splintered with a crash as he nearly effortlessly yanked it out. Exasperated, he brushed wood shards off of his robes and pants before glancing up. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were all gaping at him.

"If you don't close your mouths, you'll end up eating flies," he warned, starting up the steps again and pushing past them. Ron and Harry gulped simultaneously, vowing to never challenge Ed to a fight.

The list of things to not do around Ed was growing quickly.

* * *

"I hate this," Ed complained, not budging his wand at all. The pure-white feather sat innocently upon his desk.

"Do you not remember the spell or hand movements?" Hermione asked, leaning closer to him. Ed rolled his eyes.

"I remember just fine. I just don't want to do this," he grumbled. Hermione shrugged.

"Suit yourself. If you get a P for today, don't blame me." She turned to help out Ron, who had started to wave his arms like he was swimming. Ed turned to glare at the feather again. He lifted his wand.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa,"_ he whispered, swishing and flicking his wand in the weird, fancy little way Flitwick had shown them. The feather stayed still for a split second before it slowly drifted into the air, lazily spinning as it grew closed to the ceiling. Ed discreetly continued to guide it upwards and to the side until it drifted right in front of Flitwick's nose. The teacher squeaked in surprise, then looked around for the person conducting it. His eyes caught the wide grin of the Fullmetal Alchemist, his wand pointed directly at the feather. Professor Flitwick squealed in joy.

"Now see here, Mr. Elric has done it! And he can control it so well already! I think that should earn five points for Gryffindor, don't you think?" There was a rush of approval, and Ed carefully guided his feather back into his open palm. Hermione stared at him with a small smile and a hint of envy at the ease in which he performed the spell.

"I thought you wouldn't do it," she whispered, slightly smugly. Ed huffed out a sigh, dabbing his feather with his wand.

"If I get any bad grades, my... friend-" he choked on the word, "-would fry me like a pancake." Hermione looked puzzled, but decided to not tell him that pancakes weren't fried before turning and sending her feather four feet into the air. Ron was fuming beside her, for some odd reason Ed didn't know about. Confused, he turned and consulted Harry, who sat in the seat behind him.

"What's Ron being pissy about?" he muttered, making Harry quietly snort.

"Hermione had to show him how to do the spell, and he feels like she was insulting him," Harry whispered, and Ed merely nodded.

He couldn't really care less about teenage drama, especially when it involved a boy and a girl who so obviously would one day get married. _**(AN/ Funny, considering he doesn't notice that he will obviously marry Winry one day.)**_

He stopped in his prodding of the feather when Harry and Seamus shouted in alarm, their feather going up in flames. With a frown at his thoughts being interrupted, Ed poked his wand at their flaming feather instead. The fire died down instantly, leaving a charred black feather which disintegrated at the slightest wind.

The two had to start all over, under the snickers of their fellow classmates.

As they walked out of the classroom, Ron began to complain.

"It's no wonder nobody can stand her," he said slightly loudly. "Honestly, she's a nightmare." Ed scowled.

"No, she-!" He was cut off as somebody pushed past him, their frizzy brown hair tickling his face as they hurried off. The three boys stared as Hermione ran down the hall, sniffling.

"I think she heard you," Harry said oh-so-cleverly.

"No shit," Ed said back. Ron at least had the decency to look slightly guilty.

"So? She must've noticed that she hasn't got no friends," he said lowly, turning lightly pink.

"What am I, spoiled milk? I'm her friend!" Ed said indignantly, scowling darkly. Ron flushed deeper.

"No offence to you, Ed," he said weakly, but Ed was already storming off as if they had called him a nightmare. Harry and Ron shared a glance, shrugged, and kept walking.

So much for not caring about teenage drama.

* * *

At the grand Halloween feast, Ed purposely sat next to Percy - who looked none to thrilled about it - and ignored Harry and Ron completely. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Ron looked more awkward still, while Harry pretended to not notice. Thousands of bats were fluttering around the ceiling, and every once in a while, Ed would hold up a piece of the food and one of the bats would swoop down to take it. One of the other first-years tried the same thing, and the bat swooped down and got tangled in his hair. The poor kid screamed wildly, trying to swat the bat out of his hair, until Madam Pomfrey escorted him and the bat into the Hospital Wing. Ed rolled his eyes, muttering about stupid kids, before continuing to eat his stew.

Only to nearly spit it out as the Great Hall doors nearly exploded inwards, and Quirrell came running, his strange turban unravelled slightly. Ed choked down the stew that had threatened to burst from his mouth and stared at the dishivelled Professor. He was panting hard, looking panicked. He came to a stop in front of Dumbledore's seat.

"Troll... in the dungeons," he gasped. "Thought you should know."

He fell back in a dead faint.

Chaos ensued. Dumbledore had to resort to purple firecrackers exploding from his wand to calm the uproar.

"Prefects, lead the Houses back to the dorms immediately!" Percy jumped upwards, obviously eager to please.

"Come this way!" he bellowed into Ed's ear. "This way! First years, stick together!" Ed pulled away from the redhead, clutching his ear, and happened to stumble into Harry. The famous boy looked at him in surprise.

"Where are you going?" He didn't sound demanding, just curious.

"Nowhere!" Ed burst out, voice cracking slightly as he was elbowed in the side. He quickly slipped away from Harry and Ron, not allowing for any more questions. There was only one thing on his mind right now, and he didn't care (Much) about his own safety as he tore through the deserted corridors.

 _'Hermione doesn't know about the troll!'_

He skidded around a corner, not really knowing where he was going. The only thing he had on him was his wand and a book, tucked into his robe pocket. That, and a rumor about Hermione crying in the girls' bathroom.

Fat help that was. There was billions of girls' bathrooms in this school. He could either search in every one, or call out for her as he ran.

"HERMIONE!"

That solved that issue. Only a second later, there was an answering, high-pitched shriek coming from his left. He headed straight for it, knowing that running towards the danger usually led to people getting hurt, or, in the worst case scenario, killed. He wasn't even out of breath as he scrambled through the destroyed entrance to the first-floor girls' bathroom. Only to pause as he caught sight of a gigantic greenish squash with a potato for a head. The squash had long, hulking arms, one of which was weilding a club. It was definitely more than three times his height - it was a _troll_ , for God's sake! He wasn't short! - and thousands of times more ugly. The potent smell coming off of it reminded Ed of once having to travel through the sewers searching for a lead on the Philosopher's Stone, which hadn't been fun to clean out of Alphonse's armor afterwards. They hadn't found anything, which only made it stink even worse.

Hermione was huddled in the corner of the room, which was smashed and bashed horribly, her mouth wide open in a now-silent scream. Ed quietly mumbled a 'thank Truth' under his breath since she was still alive and unhurt. But that relief wouldn't last long with the troll approaching the brunette, its club menacingly dragging across the ground. Its footsteps shook the whole ground, making Ed's leg rattle quietly. He took a breath, knowing Hermione might possibly pass out like Quirrell did only minutes ago. His mind raced, trying to think of a plan to save Hermione. The troll went within ten feet of the shocked-still Hermione, and he took action.

"Hey! Big, bald, and ugly asshole!" he blurted out. "I think you left your brain back here!" As the troll stopped and stupidly turned around, Ed cursed to himself as he slipped out his wand. Hermione was petrified, frozen in place. Ed wasted no time as he quietly cast a stunning spell at the troll - who was blinded by the light and the curse - before running past the thing and grabbing Hermione's arms.

"Get up! Hurry! We have to get out of here!" he snapped, shaking her back and forth. Blinking rapidly, Hermione came to her senses and shakily stood. Ed turned, only to see that the troll had recovered. Swearing again, Ed glanced over his shoulder at Hermione. "Climb on!"

"W-what?" Her arms twitched, as if she was going to obey, but she pulled back again.

"Get on! Move!" Ed said harshly. "Do you want to get smashed to a pulp?!" Within a second, Hermione's arms wrapped around his neck. Without hesitating, Ed looped his arms around her legs and hoised her up onto his back with little difficulty. Hermione, being taller than him, squeaked in shock, fear, and embarrassment all at once, face flushing, as Ed charged forward, straight at the troll.

Hermione screamed bloody murder, clamping her arms tighter around Ed's neck and squeezing her eyes shut. Ed's feet kicked hard off of the ground, pushing them into the air. There was a whoosh as the troll's club sailed right under them. She heard the thud of a heavy impact, then was jarred violently as Ed landed. There was another loud thump, as if a large body was just thrown heavily onto the floor. After a moment of silence, Hermione cracked open an eye. Her grip around Ed's neck only tightened at the sight.

The troll had a small, boot-shaped implant right in between its piggy eyes, which were blank and pale green as it laid passed out on the stone floor. Snot mixed with blood steadily streamed from its nose, which looked awkward and crooked. She stayed frozen for a few seconds before daring to look at Ed.

His face was slowly growing purple from lack of oxygen, though he was desperately pulling on Hermione's robe sleeves. Hermione, once more embarrassed, let go quickly, and Ed gasped in a much-needed breath.

As he stood, sucking in deep breaths, Hermione tried to calm her racing heart, which was paced fast for two reasons. Fear, and warmth from being so close to Ed. Ed didn't seem to care and acted like it happened every day. There was suddenly a growing thunder of footsteps. Ed ignored them as he placed his hands on his knees, still breathing hard. Hermione tensed up in fear as three teachers burst into the bathroom.

Professor McGonagall, followed closely by Professor Snape, then Professor Quirrel, who still looked as if he could pass out at any second. As soon as the gutless teacher saw the passed-out troll, he whimpered pitifully and sank onto a broken toilet, clutching his heart desperately. Professor Snape barely cast them a glance before bending over the troll.

McGonagall's eyes could melt steel as she glared at the two. Ed found that he couldn't meet her eyes.

"What in Merlin were you thinking?" she demanded quietly, which was somehow worse than yelling. "You're lucky you aren't dead. Why are you not in your dormitories?"

"Well, you see-" Ed started awkwardly.

"I-it was my fault, Professor." Ed and McGonagall both turned to Hermione. She looked down under their combined incredulous gazes. "I-I went looking for the troll, thinking I could finish it by myself, since, you know, I've read all about them." She gulped, obviously having difficulties with lying to a teacher. "Ron and Harry tried to tell me not to go, but I didn't listen. If Ed hadn't followed me, I'd be dead right now. He saved me and kicked it in the face."

"And called it names. Stupid, freakishly tall fucker," Ed added under his breath, glowering at the troll before jerking to attention as Professor McGonagall's eyes nearly pierced through him.

"Is this true?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Ed lied, managing to keep his face straight and convincing. "I could get Harry and Ron for you if you want."

"No need," McGonagall said airily. She turned to stare at Hermione. "Ms. Granger, you foolish girl. How could you even _think_ of taking on a mountain troll by yourself?" Hermione hung her head. "That will be five points from Gryffindor. I am very disappointed in your behavior. If you are not hurt, go to the Gryffindor tower. The feast will be finished there." Hermione slowly and guiltily left. The Professor turned to Ed, with Snape watching like a hawk and Quirrell still squeaking every three seconds. Ed and Professor McGonagall's eyes held each other for a long while, before McGonagall blinked slowly.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor for your bravery and loyalty to your friend. It may have been luck, but not many people can claim to have taken out a mountain troll by themselves. Mind you, I am not encouraging you to disobey orders and take on any more trolls." Her eyes glittered slightly. "You may go."

* * *

Ed snickered wildly to himself as he approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who stared at him like he was a rather strange work of art.

"Pig snout," he said, and the portrait wordlessly swung open. He climbed inside.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron were all there. Hermione was telling them the story of how Ed saved her, and Ron, who was supposedly mad at the girl, listened with rapt attention. Ed watched for a few moments before clearing his throat pointedly. Hermione cut off abruptly. All three of them turned to look at him.

"Ed!" Hermione gasped, then fell silent as a blush covered her face. Ed casually walked over and sat in a chair beside the brunette. He raised an eyebrow at Ron.

"Last I heard of you, you were plotting Hermione's failing grades," he commented offhandedly, making Ron flush nearly as bad as Hermione.

"Not true!" he said hotly, and Ed rolled his eyes.

"Sure, sure... But you were thinking it."

"Was not!" Ron protested. Hermione and Harry, not able to help it, started giggling.

Only then did Ed realize that though Quirrell had said the troll was in the _dungeons_ , he had found the thing in the girls' bathroom on the first floor.

* * *

And that was how Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly became friends, with Ed as the peacemaker/troublemaker/outsider. He didn't really feel as if he belonged with these kids, since he had only been friends with adults back in Amestris. He had yet to get into a full-blown fight with any of them, however, so he considered them okay enough to be friendly with. They were slightly nosy, sure, but they didn't pry too much when it was obvious he was uncomfortable about something. They were supportive enough, telling him he was great at Quidditch, though this only annoyed him more that he was good at riding something stupid that defied the laws of gravity and logic. He watched them chat with themselves and eat as he fiddled with the bandage on his hand. The blisters and scratches from that day wouldn't heal, since he kept rubbing at them with is automail hand and scraping away the scabs.

He rembered Hermione's gentle touch as she bandaged his fingers that same day, and Harry and Ron's concern over his health.

Maybe, just maybe, he could one day consider trusting them with a few of his secrets.

...

 _Nah._

* * *

 ** _Words last chapter: 15,374_**

 ** _Words for this chapter: 17,905_**

 ** _Total words: 33,277_**

 ** _Woooow. I really need to calm down with this._**

 ** _Snape: *Claps slowly*_**

 ** _Me: *Throws rake* ANYWAYS, review time!_**

* * *

 ** _Guest: Thanks! I'm glad I was original! And yes, I am diverging from the Goblet of Fire. I plan on going through the whole series. :D_**

 ** _Draxien Oblivion: Thank you! I haven't watched Nullmetal Alchemist yet, but I plan to!_**

 ** _QuestionablyCapableGhoul: Yes! Bow to your senpai!  
Thank you so much! I'm glad nobody was OOC!_**

 ** _HavocWreakingHavoc: Thank you! Elda will DEFINITELY appear again! I'm glad you enjoyed! Hope this chapter was just as satisfactory!_**

 ** _rintindaff: Well, here's an even LONGER chapter! Thank you for reviewing!_**

 ** _xXALCHEMYFREAKXx: Thank you! Here's chapter two!_**

 ** _Quiet Leaf: Thank you! Glad you remembered me!_**

 ** _Steel Heart Alchemist: I UPDATED_**

 ** _DragonWriter357: Thank you so much! This criticism definitely helped me write this chapter! And I'd love for you to betaread this! Thank you again!_**

 ** _Guest 2: Thank you, as well! I hope you still like it!_**

* * *

 ** _Wow, ten reviews! I feel honored!_**

 ** _People may be wondering why I chose Ed to be seeker. Think about it; he's small, agile, and quick. He'd be perfect for the job. But it's only for this book! Next year, Harry's taking over!_**

 ** _Plus, it's kind of fun to just let him suffer up there on a broom, slowly growing a headache because of the non-scientificness of it all. (Is scientificness a word?)_**

 ** _Next Chapter: Wood is sexually discriminating, Hermione sets robes on fire, and Snape tries to murder Harry with his mind._**


	3. Snakes and Snapes

**_Someone mentioned a blaring plot hole I hadn't noticed. I had no clue what Voldemort looked like before he killed Harry's parents, so I assumed he looked the same as he did when he was revived in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Please, for the sake of this story, assume that he looked like a hairless baboon that had never seen the light of day before he was almost murdered by a baby._**

* * *

If there was one thing Ed had learned during his stay at Hogwarts, it was that the rules in this place were absolutely worthless.

He was sure that he had broken every single rule in the rule book that was as thick as Ron's head, and he hadn't been punished once for it. He had told Ron so, and the redhead had laughed for a while before realizing he was being called thick. Then he glared at Ed every time he saw him for three days straight, though he had forgotten why he was mad after only an hour.

November had hit fast and hard, turning the once peaceful water in the lake into an icy, deadly sheet of steel. The grass froze in the mornings, the dew turning to solid frost that transformed the soft blades into razor-sharp needles. No student wanted to be outside very much these days, as the biting wind seeped through every layer of clothing they bundled up in and chilled them to the core.

To Ed's dismay, the first Quidditch game was fast approaching. He didn't see why they had to play the sport during the cold part of the year instead of the warm half, when most other sports were played. Every day he went to Quidditch practice always resulted with aching automail, a couple new scratches and bruises, and an annoyed scowl that never seemed to leave his face in the more recent days.

Of course, nobody except the Quidditch team, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were supposed to know about Ed becoming Seeker. It was a secret, so naturally, everyone knew about it four days after it was decided. Random Gryffindors (and sometimes Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs) Ed didn't know would walk up to him, slap him on the back, and wish him good luck (or threaten to do awful things if he lost) for the game. His shoulders and upper back were bright red from the constant abuse, and he glared death at any person that dared approach with their hand outstretched.

Ron, who was the most excited out of the four, kept babbling random details about all the Quidditch games he had attended. At one point, Ed was sure he had gone off on a tangent as to why the Bludgers needed to be colored a bright neon orange, so they would be noticed more easily. But he never really paid attention when Ron started to speak. He usually didn't get past 'did you know...?'

Harry always intently listened to everything Ron said, like a disciple reverently worshipping a higher being. He took to heart everything that was said about Quidditch, especially when the Seeker position was mentioned. and Ed had outright stated that Harry could have the Seeker position, once next year rolled around. He had surprised himself when he spoke of it like he was going to be there to see it happen. But Harry had grinned widely, saying that next year really wasn't that far away.

Ed was glad he had Ron, though. The Quidditch whiz could tell him anything and everything there was to know about the game whenever he felt like he needed to know something.

He had learned about seven hundred ways to commit a Quidditch foul from Ron (seven hundred and eleven, to be exact), and how many accidents from 'wayward Bludgers and viciously thrown Quaffles' he was to expect. Exactly four people had died playing the game, though none in the most recent years, and three hundred and eighty-one players had gotten broken bones or other severe injuries from the Bludgers. Ed seemed satisfied with those facts, fully convinced that flying around on a broomstick with two balls trying to kill you and one with a mind of its own wasn't a completely boring sport.

Of course, that didn't mean he liked it any better.

* * *

The day before the Quidditch match Ed was dreading, the group of four was outside in the courtyard. The reason was way beyond Ed's understanding, but they were content, crouched down around Quidditch Through the Ages. A jam jar, filled with an icy blue fire Hermione had easily produced ("It's my specialty," she had claimed as Ron stared at her, awed), was supposed to be passed around to all four of them, but Ed held onto the jar longer than his fair share of time and refused to pass it over when Ron demanded it. The two were wrestling each other over it, while Hermione pointed out the more interesting aspects of the book to Harry.

Ed suddenly paused for a second, and Ron triumphantly tugged the jar out of his grip and hugged it close to his chest. He grinned smugly at the other boy, but stopped when he saw where Ed was looking. He followed his gaze, gulping when he saw Snape looking around the courtyard, a menacing look on his pallid face. Ron was quick to shove the jam jar underneath his shirt.

"Quick, cover up your neck before he sucks your blood," Ed hissed, turning and lightly kicking Harry in the side. Harry started with a confused blink, then stood with his hands empty, leaving Ed to sigh and pick up the abandoned book. Hermione was even more confused, since her view of the Professor was blocked by Ron's rather thick head.

When Ed turned around again, Snape was stalking towards them, murderous intent flowing off of him in an almost tangible cloud. Ed met the teacher's gaze defiantly, tucking his book under his arm and not flinching as Snape stopped, barely two feet away.

"What've you got there, Elric?" His voice was cold, not allowing for anything other than obedience. Ed considered it for a moment, then held out the book so Snape could see. The Professor stared for a few moments, before attempting to grin maliciously, though it really looked like a pained grimace.

"Library books are not allowed outside of the school building," he stated, reaching out a hand to take the book. "Give it to me."

"Ah, no." Ed pulled back, keeping the book outside of Snape's reach. The teacher's eyes narrowed, while the other three students stared in shock. Honestly, you would think they would know Ed well enough by now to expect something like this.

"No...?" Snape drew the word out, like a particularly long snake slipping out of his mouth.

"Yeah, no. This isn't a library book," Ed said, holding the book up and pointing to it. "This is my own personal copy that I spent a whopping nine knuts on from Flourish and Blotts. So no, you won't be taking this book. Thank you for your concern, however, of the school property. Very admirable."

The other Gryffindors watched with bated breath as Snape's lips twitched.

"Very clever, Elric," he murmured. "Very clever indeed."

The twitching lips were revealed to be Snape struggling to not grin in amusement. He turned and limped away, his hands empty and Ed still holding the book. They watched as Snape snapped at a couple of third-years for something or another, then disappear back inside the castle. Only then did Ron break the silence that had fallen over the small group.

"Man, that burned!" Ron gasped, pulling the jam jar out of his shirt. Ed rolled his eyes.

""Burned" is a bit of an exaggeration, Ron. I wonder what's bothering his leg, though..." He trailed off with a frown.

"No, really! It burned!" Ron completely disregarded the last part of what Ed said and lifted his shirt, showing a rectangular red mark on his chest where the jam jar had been pressed against his skin. Harry and Ed stared for a few moments, until Harry burst out in laughter.

"Ron, you keep saying you're stronger than Ed," he gasped, clutching his stomach, "but you look like you've never exercised in your life!" Ron scowled, dropping his shirt as his face flushed. Ed raised his eyebrow, giving Ron a questioning glance.

"I bet I'm better than both of you!" Ron snapped, shoving Harry's shoulder rather roughly. "What d'you think, Ed?" He looked at the blond, who had his head down. His shoulders were shaking, and one hand was covering his mouth. If Ron didn't know any better, he would have thought he was crying.

But he knew Ed, and his scowl grew.

"Ah, shut it, you!" He grabbed Ed's hood and flipped it up over the alchemist's head.

That did it. Ed started laughing, harder than even Harry, and clutched at his stomach. He fell dramatically to the ground, still laughing. Hermione shook her head as she watched them argue and laugh, Harry showing off his nonexistent muscles.

"Boys," she muttered, turning and walking away. She picked up the jam jar, which Ron had dropped at some point or another.

They could do without it.

* * *

At the common room that afternoon, Ed was snoozing peacefully in an armchair near Ron, Harry, and Hermione. The three were talking amiably about their Charms homework. Ed had secretly lent them his completed assignment, though he warned them to not copy it word-for-word, since Hermione had sworn to check each and every one of their essays. She would know if the alchemist let them copy, and none of them wanted to go through a lecture about 'academic dishonesty'.

Hermione suddenly glanced up at Ed, as if she had a sudden realization.

"I almost forgot! Edward and I have a Potions essay to hand in before eight tonight!" she said. Harry paused in his writing and looked up at her.

"Why would you have a Potions essay? We didn't have homework for Potions," he stated, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Hermione huffed, as if offended.

"We don't. I just thought it would be nice to get some extra credit, and Edward thought it would be a good idea."

"Knowing her, she probably forced him to do it," Ron muttered in Harry's ear. The bespectacled boy nodded his agreement, smiling slightly in amusement.

"We should wake him up," Hermione said, standing suddenly. She glanced at the boys, who had suddenly jumped out of their seats and backed away, eyes wide. She raised an eyebrow. "What's gotten into you two?"

"Waking him is like waking the devil himself!" Ron hissed, eyes narrowing cautiously. "Better you than us, I suppose."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, he can't be that bad," Hermione snapped. She cautiously approached the slumbering boy, pausing when she stood right beside him. He was sprawled across the chair, his cheek pressing into the armrest and one arm draped over the back of the chair. She reached out, as if to shake his shoulder, but hesitated. She turned her head, asking the other boys with her eyes if she really had to do this. Ron was vigorously shaking his head, while Harry just nodded solemnly, his expression saying that he would miss her when she was gone. Swallowing, she turned back to Ed, and with a burst of courage, reached over and grabbed his shoulder.

"Edward, wake up," she said quietly, expecting him to reach up and snap her wrist at any second. But all that happened was that Ed wriggled out of her grasp, groaned, and buried his head deeper into the armrest.

"Five more minutes, Al," he mumbled, curling up in an almost cat-like position. Hermione pulled her hand back in surprise, glancing at the other boys. They, too, looked mildly shocked that she was still standing, but Ron also looked as if he recognized the name. He frowned in thought.

"Edward, come on," Hermione said, deciding to not waste any more time. "If we don't turn those essays in today, Snape won't accept them."

"Hmn..." Ed finally rolled over, looking up at Hermione through narrowed eyes, still groggy from sleep. He peered at her exasperated expression for a few moments, before closing his eyes again with a groan. "Right. School. Magic. Forgot, I'm in a nuthouse. Kind of a hard thing to forget." Opening his eyes again, he pulled himself up to a sitting position, rubbing the back of his sore neck with a grimace. Hermione, satisfied that she had completed her job, stepped back.

"Hurry up, we have fifteen minutes," she urged, already gathering up her parchment. Ed nodded, cracked his neck, and stood. He glanced at the boys, who were observing silently with sullen expressions on their faces.

"How come you always hit me whenever I got you up at home?" Ron whined, crossing his arms. "D'you got some kind of grudge against me?"

"Probably. But only subconsciously," Ed replied with a small grin. He, too, grabbed his essay, then hurried to follow Hermione out of the common room. Ron and Harry watched them go, and once the portrait swung shut, Ron turned to Harry with a serious expression. Harry was slightly taken aback by the intensity of his gaze as Ron grabbed his shoulders, looking deep into the raven-haired boy's eyes.

"Harry," he began seriously, "what does subconscious mean?"

* * *

Ed continued to follow Hermione as they walked to the staff room. Ed was surprised there was even a staff room - he thought that half of the Professors hated each other and kept to their own rooms, so there was no need for a staff room. But here he was, standing next to Hermione, prepared to open the large, slightly intimidating door. He swallowed, with a foreboding feeling that whatever was behind this door was not something he wanted to see.

Hermione didn't seem to have such problems, and she shoved the door open without hesitating in the slightest. Obviously, she had been to this room before, and Ed slightly admired her boldness as he peered over her shoulder.

"How are you supposed to keep your eye on all three heads-!" Snape's voice cut off as the door squealed, its old hinges complaining at the abrupt movement.

Both students froze at the sight that met them, and the two adults in the room seemed to freeze as well - either from surprise or anger was unknown. Ed's eyes, however, never left the sight before him. Hermione had to look away, one hand covering her mouth.

One of Snape's legs was mangled from the knee down, the skin a torn mess. The muscles underneath were visible, with blood steadily pouring from the wound. Filch was halfway through winding bandages around it, but the first layer was already soaked through with the crimson liquid.

After a moment, Snape came to his senses as he dropped his robes, covering up the ugly sight. The roll of white fell to the ground and bounced twice, before rolling towards Ed, leaving behind a trail of white against the stone floor. Snape stalked to the students as Ed bent down and picked up the bandages, slowly rolling them back up while Hermione sprinted away, presumably to empty her stomach. Ed slowly looked up as Snape stopped in front of him, his livid expression almost enough to kill a lesser being.

But Ed silently held out the roll of bandages like a peace offering, his face revealing nothing.

"That must hurt like a bitch," he said quietly, gesturing to Snape's leg with his free hand. "Make sure it doesn't get infected. Take care of yourself." Snape wordlessly took the roll from him, his killing intent fading. The two stared each other down for a few moments, Filch quietly sputtering in the background, before Ed nodded curtly, turned, and walked away. Snape watched him leave, his lip curling. He slammed the door closed behind him.

Ed breathed out a sigh of relief, surprised that he hadn't had any points taken away for foul language or some other rule he'd probably broken during these past forty-five seconds. He concluded that it was just luck, then set out on a mission to find his missing friend.

When Ed found Hermione, she was exiting a nearby girls' bathroom, wiping her mouth clean with a paper towel. She threw it away, and when she looked up, she caught sight of him. Hermione hesitated before going up to Ed, her face grim.

"I won't tell if you don't," Ed said softly, holding out his hand as if to shake. Hermione bit her lip, then slowly accepted the handshake. They shook once, then dropped their hands and turned, heading back to the common room in silence. Ed glanced at Hermione, who hadn't said a word, and lightly brushed his shoulder with hers. She looked up at him, surprised at the sudden affectionate gesture, then smiled slightly as she dropped her gaze again.

"What's bothering you?" Ed asked, keeping his eyes facing forward as he led the way back. Hermione stayed quiet for a few beats before sighing.

"Sna- Professor Snape said something about three heads," she admitted, twisting her robes in her fingers. "If- if he was talking about the Cerberus, then..." She trailed off nervously, as if Snape would come rounding the corner after them, deducting points the whole way.

"Pfft," Ed snorted, causing the girl to look up in surprise. "Of course he wasn't talking about that thing. The Cerberus can't be the only three-headed monster in this blasted school." He tried to sound reassuring, but from the look on Hermione's face, he hadn't done a very good job at it. She looked doubtful, and she frowned at him.

"I... guess you're right," she said slowly. She obviously didn't believe him in the slightest. "This is Hogwarts, after all."

* * *

The next morning, Ed was being a typical lazy teenager and refused to get up when Ron told him to.

"The Quidditch match is today!" Ron said, hyping himself up without anyone else's help. "The first one of the season!"

"Yippee," Ed grumbled. "A fun-filled day of excitement awaits me. Disgusting."

"Don't be like that," Harry interjected, his voice condescending. "I thought you loved flying!"

"Without the whole school watching," Ed pointed out, finally making a move to get up. He groaned as he stretched, his back cracking in a way that made the other boys wince.

After the three were dressed, they wandered out to the Great Hall, which was alive with cheerful chatter of those that were looking forward to the first Quidditch match of the year. Ed grimaced. It seemed everyone around him was incapable of saying anything unrelated to the broomstick-using sport. Hermione was making a face very similar to his own as he sat beside her, already reaching for the first two plates he saw.

"I almost don't want to eat," Ed told her. "I feel like throwing up just hearing all of this nonsense."

Hermione turned her head, startled at his sudden voice, then smiled in greeting.

"I'm glad someone here is capable of a meaningful conversation," she said. "I don't think we'll be hearing about anything but Quidditch for the next few hours."

"You should hurry and eat," Seamus, who was sitting across the table from the duo, suddenly said, drowning his sausages in ketchup. Ed curiously eyed the red-coated sausages, then reached over and plucked one off of Seamus' plate without the boy ever noticing. "Seekers are usually the ones to get clobbered the most by the other team."

Ed slowly put down the sausage that had been inches away from his mouth.

"Thanks, Seamus," he said flatly. "Thank you so very much. I feel so much better about this now."

"Quit being so dramatic," Hermione scolded, her hand fluttering. "You'll be brilliant."

"I hope so," Ed muttered, watching as Harry and Ron lightly bickered about which position was better - Beater or Keeper.

* * *

An hour and a half later, the entire school was squeezed into the high-flying stands of the Quidditch field, binoculars clutched in their eager fingers. Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Neville, and Dean (who was the only one Ed could remotely relate with, since both were from out of the country) were all seated on the top row. At Harry's suggestion, they had transformed one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined into a banner, solidly painted gold with the Flamel in red in the middle. (Hermione had stated that Ed seemed to treasure the odd symbol, seeing as he had asked her to sew it on the back of all of his robes one day.) The unoriginal phrase 'Go Edward' was scrawled across it in bold, multicolored letters. It was tacky and probably didn't take too much effort, but Ed warmed at the sight anyways; a welcome change from the cold air of November.

In the locker rooms, Ed had withdrawn to one of the bathroom stalls to change into the scarlet uniform. He approved of it mostly for its color, but also because it covered up every part of him besides his head. Nobody would wonder why he was wearing gloves when they came with the uniform. When he came out of the stall, he melded in with the semicircle of Quidditch players, all awaiting Wood's motivational speech. The fifth year rose up to his full height, looking around at the players with a face of determination. The tension in the room was so thick, it was almost tangible.

"Okay, men," he began.

"And women," Angelina Johnson, a mousy-brown-haired Chaser with a troubling gleam in her eye, interrupted. Wood nodded in her direction.

"And women," he agreed easily. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred continued, dramatically spreading his arms out.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George put in, throwing on a face of mock seriousness.

"We know this speech by heart," Fred said in Ed's ear, the blond grinning in amusement. "We were on the team last year."

"Shut it, both of you," Wood snapped good-naturedly. The tension had been broken, and most of the team was smiling. "This is the best team we've had in years. We're going to win this year. I can feel it."

After those inspiring words, he glared around at all of them, threatening them with his eyes. Immediately, the tension was back to being thicker than molasses.

"Right, it's time. Good luck. All of you." He looked at Ed when he said this, as if sending good luck through sheer willpower.

Ed followed the group outside, the light blinding him for a moment. He paused, lifting a hand up to cover his eyes, and listened to the almost deafening sound of cheering from the twenty-foot stands above him. Once he could see again, he had to hurry forward to his team, making it just in time as Madam Hooch, the referee, began to speak.

"I want a nice, fair game from all of you," she said, seeming to stare at the Slytherin captain longer than anyone else. Mucus Flint, Ed believed his name was. "Mount your brooms." Ed caught the other captain's eye, and he held the troll-like boy's gaze for a few moments before giving an even more troll-like grin, climbing onto his broom in one smooth movement and taking off just as the whistle was blown.

For the umpteenth time, he felt the excited jolt of defying gravity, the ground getting further and further away as his broom rose. The cheers and screams became more distant as he gained height, an ecstatic smile seemingly permanent on his face. The feeling of complete weightlessness, of doing something against the laws of nature, was thrilling, to say the least.

Once he was high, high above the rest of the players' heads, he finally stopped his broom, looking down at the rice grain human beings below him. He spotted a certain group of rice grains down in the stands, holding a gold-and-red banner. They waved. He waved back.

A larger one - he presumed it was Hagrid, who was more the size of a grape - squeezed through the stands before coming to rest beside his rice grain friend group. He watched them for a few moments, before the loud shout of "GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" brought him back to the game. He snapped his head down again, squinting down at the ground below for any sign of a flash of gold. He ignored the cheering as it began to grow louder, beginning to grow hysterical.

"EDWARD!"

With a jolt that nearly brought him off of his broom, he lowered himself enough to hear what Hermione was trying to shout at him. She was pointing a toothpick arm somewhere in the crowd of Quidditch players. Ed followed her hand, and narrowed his eyes when he spotted the Slytherin Seeker darting this way and that, nearly hugging his broom in his desperation for speed. One hand was stretched in front of him, as if he was trying to catch something.

Something small, gold, and undoubtedly the Snitch.

Ed abandoned his high post with an "oh, no you don't!" and sped downward, his ears roaring with the wind. He felt his eyes water as he approached the ground, and he pulled up just before slamming into the Slytherin Seeker. The two raced neck and neck, Ed scowling as he tried to urge his broom forward with a kick of his legs. He glanced at the other Seeker - his name was Terry, right? - and met his eyes. Terry wasn't backing off, but neither was Ed.

He reached for the little ball of gold, his fingers just brushing the translucent wing-

And suddenly, there was nothing beneath him as he fell towards the ground, his ribs aching in a way that told him a rock had slammed into his side. He landed hard, his breath rushing out in a great puff of air. He lay there for a few moments, ears ringing with the sound of the Gryffindor's outrage and the Slytherin's laughter, multicolored spots swimming across his vision that looked suspiciously like the letters on his friends' banner. Terry himself had stopped to look down, his eyes wide with confusion as to why one second, Ed was next to him, scrabbling for the Snitch, and laying on the ground like roadkill the next.

Ed saw the sneering face of Mucus hovering above him. He finally pieced together what happened.

When Mucus saw the two, in a rush of either stupidity or genius, he had decided to knock off the Gryffindor Seeker to allow the Slytherin Seeker better access to the Snitch. But from what Ed remembered (foul number four hundred and three) it was against the rules to physically touch any of the other team's players, much less knock them off of their broom. If it had been anyone else, they probably would have broken a bone, or at least had some internal bleeding. But he slowly pulled himself up, his head still spinning, and reached for his broom.

He could vaguely hear Dean screeching about soccer in the stands.

He rose slowly into the air, a bit more wary this time as Spinner easily threw the Quaffle into their goalposts, scoring another ten points for their team. Fred rushed over to him, batting a Bludger away with a little more force than usual.

"Alright there, Eddie?" he gasped, hefting the thick bat over his shoulder. "That looked like a nasty fall."

"I'm fine," Ed grunted, rolling his head around a bit to ease the soreness in his neck. "Though I feel like I slept on a bed of rocks."

"If you have enough energy to complain, then you're probably fine," Fred said with a smile, turning and darting away to whack a Bludger that was buzzing around Angelina Johnson's head like a particularly large horsefly.

Ed went back to his bird's-eye view of the game, this time making sure to ignore the spectators. His skin prickled uncomfortably all of a sudden, and he held back a shudder as he narrowed his eyes more. But it was getting hard to concentrate as the feeling grew stronger, until it felt as if his skin was crawling with spiders. He absently shook out his left arm, hoping it was just going numb from the tight grip he had on his broom. The feeling stayed anyways, and with a grimace, Ed did his best to ignore it.

He couldn't, however, ignore it as the broom grew hot under his fingers, and he recoiled as his gloves began smoking. He glared down at his broom, which was glowing red with heat in only the spot he had his hands on. He tentatively put his hands down a little ways above where they previously had been, only to meet with the same result as before. He flapped his hands irritably, balancing precariously with only his legs to keep himself upright on the thin stick of wood.

He looked down, with half a mind to yell at Wood for a time out, until a flash caught his eye.

He had been the only one to see it. He studied the spot he saw the flash carefully for a few moments, until it happened again. This time, he kept track of the shiny bit of gold as he grasped his broom - grimacing as his fingers burned and protested the action - and tilted downward once more, bent as low as possible to allow for the least amount of air resistance.

Of course, by now, Terry had seen it, too, and had begun racing towards the Snitch as well. Not wanting a repeat from the last race, Ed angled himself directly towards the Snitch instead of the other Seeker and narrowed his eyes to slits. His fingers blistered, burned as he lifted his left hand from the broom, reaching out and closing his fingers-

Right around a golf-ball sized lump of struggling gold that nearly slipped out of his hand.

Exhilarated with his achievement, he couldn't stop grinning as he pulled up only inches from the ground, though he tumbled ungracefully off of his broom anyways as soon as it jerked to a stop, uncoordinated because of the lack of two hands to control it. The stands were filled with shouts of joy and confusion, while the announcer (Ed believed him to be Lee Jordan, the twins' partner in crime) screamed out the results, deafening anyone who was in the nearby vicinity. The Gryffindor team was suddenly surrounding him, slapping his already sore back and yelling praises into his ears. He just grinned silently, holding the Snitch in his fingers as if it would somehow escape if he didn't hold it as tightly as he was. Its translucent wings fluttered defeatedly. The spectators began swarming out of the stands once the general confusion was solved, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron were somehow the first ones to reach Ed and pull him away from the oncoming crowd of cheering Gryffindors.

Hermione had a firm hold on his wrist as she dragged him towards Hagrid, who was standing a ways away from the craziness that was Hogwarts' student body and waving the four over. They all trooped merrily over to Hagrid's hut, though Hermione was frowning in a way that told them she was thinking deeply about a puzzle and was still much too far from solving it.

Soon enough, they were all relaxing in Hagrid's cozy little hut, Fang drooling all over Ed's robes as soon as the blond stepped across the threshold. He was still wearing his Quidditch uniform, but nobody seemed to care as they calmly sipped the tea Hagrid had served them with matching smiles on their faces.

"Edward, did anything... odd happen to your broom?" Hermione asked hesitantly, raising her gaze from her cup to look him in the eye. "I saw Snape staring at you. He wasn't blinking, and muttering like a mad man. I thought he might be jinxing your broom. I set his robes on fire." She had a tinge of pride in that last sentence, and Ed raised an eyebrow at her. He thought for a moment, his burned fingers forgotten in the rush of victory.

"Actually, yeah," he admitted, holding out his left hand. "The handle got really hot all of a sudden, and I almost couldn't hold on to it."

Hermione suddenly became almost livid as she saw the tattered remains of the glove that once encased Ed's left hand, revealing the ugly blistering red of his fingers and palm.

"You've got to stop doing this to yourself," she huffed, reaching into her robes and pulling out her wand. "I've had enough experience with your wounds to become a professional nurse by now." She produced a small roll of cloth bandages and a bottle of disinfectant from thin air. Harry and Ron avoided talking to the two, instead chatting amiably with Hagrid about the kinds of creatures Hagrid had owned.

Ed wiggled his eyebrows at Hermione as she pulled off his demolished glove and began wiping his hand with as much care as possible.

"You can be my nurse any time, 'Mione," he said in a mock solemn voice. "I only get hurt for the pleasure of feeling your delicate hands caress my wounded soul." He bent his head and kissed the back of her hand. She swatted his face away.

"Stop it, you masochist," Hermione snapped, though her face was red and she couldn't quite seem to stop the small smile that crossed her face. Ed chuckled and let her continue wrapping his hand, absently listening in on Harry, Ron, and Hagrid's conversation.

"What else have you owned?" Harry asked, eyes wide with wonderment as he learned about creatures he had never dreamed of hearing about before

"I owned meself a Blast-Ended Skrewt once. Got a three-headed dog not too long ago, actually," Hagrid said, leaning back against the wall as he sipped his tea. "Bought 'im off a Greek chappie at a pub las' year." Harry and Ron stiffened, eyes wide as they glanced at each other. Hermione, who hadn't been listening, looked up with confusion as Ed's fingers suddenly curled into a fist. He was staring at Hagrid with the most serious look she had ever seen on his face.

"Hagrid," he began lowly, "what's that dog's name?"

"Why, Fluffy, o' course," Hagrid said, his warm yet beady eyes turning to stare at the alchemist. "Why d'you want to know?"

"And where is it now?" Ed demanded instead, almost pulling his hand away from Hermione as he leaned towards the half-giant. Hagrid suddenly paused, his large body going rigid. Harry and Ron looked between the two, as if not sure about which one they should be watching.

"Now, that's top secret, that is," he said in a scolding tone. "Don' ask me any more. I won' tell ya nothin'. That's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel-!"

Everyone jumped as Ed suddenly stood, knocking over his chair with a bang. Hermione, who had just finished tying off the bandage, stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm going to bed," Ed said quietly, turning and leaving the hut without a word.

Hagrid didn't even try to stop him, too furious with himself for saying more than he knew he should have.

* * *

Of course, all things had to come to an end sometime, and the excitement of the first Quidditch game died after a week of constant chatter. November, too, was finally over as it gave way to December, burying Hogwarts within its snowy clutches. The lake was as solid as the castle walls, and the Weasley twins were given detention for bewitching snowballs to bounce constantly off of the back of Quirrell's turban. The poor Professor hadn't been able to get them to stop until Hermione took pity upon him and sent the snowballs away.

The few owls that had managed to make it through the thick storm had collapsed at the table, Ed's owl included. He had promptly picked up the ball of feathers and dumped it into Hagrid's waiting arms to be nursed back to health. Right afterwards, instead of flying off like a normal owl, the little thing just had to make itself comfortable in Ed's scarlet and gold muffler, refusing to part with the cloth until Ed threatened it with no dinner.

Personally, Ed couldn't wait for the holidays to begin. He was tired of the bitterly cold corridors and the freezing cold Potions sessions, where his automail resisted every small movement with a vengeance and his breath came out in great misty clouds. But besides the cold, he really just wanted a certain loud-mouthed Slytherin to hurry up and run home to his daddy so he didn't have to be wary of catching the Slytherin's stupidity.

"I feel so sorry for all those kids that have to stay home for Christmas because they're not wanted back home," Malfoy had said one specially blistering cold Potions class. He was staring directly at Harry as he said this, and the raven-haired boy grit his teeth as he measured out the right amount of powdered lion fish spine. Ed glared back at Malfoy, completely unamused with the Slytherin's antics.

Since Malfoy knew next to nothing about the blond-haired Gryffindor, he had taken to teasing and mocking Harry, Hermione, and Ron instead, knowing that it would bother Ed anyways since the alchemist could never stand to have his tentative friends insulted. Ed had some patience, no matter how ludicrous that sounded, so he had yet to plant a good sucker punch right in the middle of Malfoy's smug expression.

It was true that Harry was staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Ed hadn't needed to bribe him to stay, as he signed up at once to stay at Hogwarts over the break. He explained that without the horrid Dursleys around, it was to be his best Christmas yet. Ed, knowing that he would spend most of the time travelling if he went back to Amestris, signed up as well with the promise to send a letter back home as soon as the weather cleared up a bit.

To his pleasure, he found that Ron would be staying as well, since his parents were off to visit Charlie the dragon tamer over in Romania. Hermione, though, chose to leave Hogwarts, since her parents missed her at home. She had wanted to stay to continue the search for Nicholas Flamel. Ed, too, was searching, but he was more reluctant, as he was afraid of what he might find. Hermione was looking through an old list of previous Hogwarts teachers, since she recalled that Flamel had once taught an Alchemy class. But his name was wiped clean from all the records, and none of them could remember where they had read the name before.

When they finally left Potions, Ed was rubbing his hands vigorously together, trying to at least bring a bit of warmth back to his stiff flesh fingers. His unnamed owl huddled deep into his scarf, occasionally nipping at his chin when Ed was on the verge of crushing the little creature. He frowned at it, and it only stared balefully back up at him.

"Look, it's Hagrid," Ron said, nudging Ed with his elbow and pointing at the large fir tree blocking their way. Ed stared at the tree for a few moments, then turned to Ron with absolutely no expression on his face.

"That's a tree," he said flatly. "Harry might have to start sharing his glasses." Harry protectively clutched at his glasses.

"Behind the tree, Ed," Hermione said. "Look, you can see his feet." Ed looked, and he could indeed see Hagrid's enormous feet sticking out from under the tree. Now that he was really listening, he could hear the telltale loud puffing that could only be caused by the half giant. The four approached the tree, and Ron stuck his head through the branches to give Hagrid a large grin.

"Hi Hagrid. Want any help?"

"Nah, I'm alrigh'. Thanks," Hagrid huffed, letting go of the trunk to speak. Ed pushed into the branches, searching for pine cones. Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him that pine cones only grew on pine trees, not fir trees.

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold, annoying drawl from behind them. "Trying to earn some money, Weasley? Planning on becoming a gamekeeper when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose. That dinky hut of Hagrid's must be a palace compared to where you're used to living in."

Ron saw red as he started to lunge at Malfoy, but a hand stuck out of the tree and snatched the back of his robes.

"Ah, so that was Malfoy," Ed said as he pulled himself out of the tree, brushing needles off of his robes with the hand that wasn't restraining Ron. "I thought it was a rat that crawled out of the dungeons." He looked up from his robes at Malfoy's red, livid face. The Slytherin opened his mouth to retort, but sharp footsteps coming their way caused him to snap it shut again.

Snape came sweeping down the hall, his eyes cold as they slid over the students, finally coming to rest on Ed, who had just released Ron. Ron himself reluctantly backed away from Malfoy, rubbing his neck tenderly where his collar had nearly choked him.

"If you have no reason to crowd the halls, move along," he said icily. All of the Slytherins were quick to squeeze past the tree, Goyle rather roughly shoving Harry into the needle-covered branches. Snape turned back around and marched away as the Gryffindors glared at the Slytherins' retreating back.

"I hate them both," Harry growled, picking needles out of his hair. "Snape and Malfoy."

"Buck up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid said, once again taking a hold of the tree. "Tell yeh what. I'll bring yeh along to see the Great Hall. It looks mighty fine, if I say so meself."

Ed was quick to agree for all of them, though Harry had just about rejected the offer. The four of them followed Hagrid to the Great Hall, though Ron seemed determined to not enjoy himself as he shoved his hands deep into his robe pockets with a scowl. When they reached the Hall, Professor Flitwick and McGonagall were busily setting up the Christmas decorations with the help of magic.

"Ah, there you are, Hagrid. Put the last tree in the far corner, would you?" Flitwick asked, flicking his wand so a dozen candles came to rest upon another tree's branches.

The hall looked spectacular, in Ed's opinion. Looking around at the other Gryffindors, he could tell they were thinking the same thing. Even Ron, who was scowling only moments earlier.

Big wreaths of holly and mistletoe were hung about on the walls, and no less than a dozen towering Christmas trees were stationed around the room. Some had various sizes of sparkling icicles dangling from their branches, and others had hundreds of miniature candles balanced magically upon them.

"How many days yeh got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked abruptly after he set up the tree. "Three? Four?"

"Just one," Hermione said. "That reminds me. Harry, Ron, Edward, we've got half an hour until lunch. We should go to the library."

"Oh, you're right," agreed Ron, managing to tear his eyes away from the golden bubbles blossoming out of Professor Flitwick's wand. The Professor spread the bubbles all over the new tree's branches like little golden leaves.

"The library?" Hagrid said, trailing after the four as they left the Great Hall. "Just before break? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry said cheerfully, a hint of smugness in his smile. "Ever since you told us about Nicholas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is and how he's related to the school." Hagrid stiffened.

"Yeh what?" he half roared. "I told yeh to drop it! It means nothing to yeh what that dog's guarding."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is. That's all," Hermione said, almost meekly as Hagrid's furious glare turned to her.

"Unless you want to save us the trouble and tell us who he is?" Ron offered. "We've been through half the library already. I'm sure I've read his name somewhere before..."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," Hagrid said with a sulky look.

"Suit yourself," Harry said, turning and walking away, Hermione and Ron right on his heels. Ed lagged behind and cast one last glance at Hagrid. He caught the half giant's eye and grinned before giving a mysterious wink, then hurried to catch up with the other Gryffindors before Hagrid could process what just happened.

* * *

After searching furiously for Flamel's name for the past few days, even Ed had to admit that he was getting tired of reading book after disappointing book without even a hint of the man's name. He wasn't in any of the books with strong or famous wizards, so he couldn't have been that spectacular.

Ed wandered after Harry, who had made his way over to the Restricted section. The two stared wistfully at the old, dusty books that might have held a clue to solving their problems. Ed's owl hooted dismally, nestling deeper into Ed's scarf.

"What're you looking for, boys?" Harry and Ed started at the sudden question. They turned to see Madam Pince, brandishing a feather duster the way a knight might brandish a sword.

"Nothing," Harry answered quickly, shying away from the librarian.

"You'd better get out, then. Go on! Out!" Harry scurried away, while Ed still stood there, shifting his feet. Madam Pince turned her vulture gaze onto him.

"Well?"

"Do you know where I could find Nicolas Flamel?" he blurted, his feet going still. Madam Pince stared at him with absolutely no familiarity. Ed took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Or, if not Flamel... Von Hohenheim?"

This time, Madam Pince's eyes widened in recognition.

"Ah, yes, I know of him," she said, turning and walking away, expecting him to follow. "He should be right around here, somewhere..." She began sifting through a large shelf filled to the brim with old books, some of them falling apart at the spine. He winced as a cloud of dust suddenly blew outwards, covering his hair and face with a thin coating of brown.

"Ah, here it is." Madam Pince pulled out a particularly thick book, emblazoned with the very same symbol Ed wore on the back of his robes. She handed it to him, and he nearly staggered under the sudden weight.

"T-thank you," he spluttered, adjusting the book in his arms so he could carry it better.

"If that's all you came here for, then leave," Madam Pince said, pointing out the door. Ed nodded his thanks once more, then left the library with a satisfied look in his eye.

* * *

"You'll keep searching while I'm away, won't you?" Hermione fretted, adjusting her scarf. "And you'll send me an owl if you find anything?"

"For the last time, yes, Hermione," Ed sighed, still flipping through the book Madam Pince had given him. He had been the only one to come see Hermione off, since Ron and Harry refused to get up before noon. He shivered as a blisteringly cold wind suddenly sliced through the air, whipping his bangs this way and that. "Make sure you ask your parents if the name is familiar. It is safe to do that, right?"

"Oh, yes, very safe," Hermione reassured. "They're both Muggles. Dentists, actually."

"Then be sure to bring back some floss," Ed joked, grinning as Hermione shoved his shoulder good-naturedly. She laughed lightly before bending down to pick up her trunk, preparing to climb aboard the Hogwarts train and go back home. She paused for a moment, and Ed looked up when he sensed her still standing there. He raised an eyebrow as Hermione bit her lip, looking very hesitant at the moment.

"Did you change your mind or what?" he asked, only half joking. Hermione shook her head. Suddenly, she seemed to gather up her courage, and leaned forward and gave Ed a sisterly kiss on the cheek. Before Ed could react, she was already darting away and hopping aboard the train, leaving him standing, dumbfounded.

He put his hand on his cheek, suddenly feeling much warmer. He gave a wide, genuine smile before looking back down at his book, flipping through it as he headed back towards the castle.

* * *

Once the holidays had officially started, Ron and Harry were having too much fun to even think about Nicholas Flamel. There was only the three of them in the dormitory, and the common room scarcely held more than four people at a time nowadays. They were always able to get the best seats by the fire, and Ron proposed toasting anything they could get their hands on in the fire. Bread, muffins, marshmallows, and even a banana had been speared on a toasting fork and thrust into the fire. Ed was the only one that would try the toasted banana. It tasted awful.

Ron was also teaching Harry on how to improve at Wizard's Chess. Ed thought it was very amusing to watch as Harry grew flustered when the chess pieces began ordering him around for a change. Harry wasn't improving much at Wizard's Chess, and the only game he won was against Ed, who had been arguing with Ron about which Quidditch team was the best at the time. Ed had been saying that his team was the best, since he was on it, and Ron would say that the Chudley Cannons were better since they were professional. Ed had pointed out that not all professionals were the best, and used the wizards in the Ministry as an example.

Ron had nothing to say to that.

On Christmas Eve, Harry went to bed early, and Seamus and Ron were close behind him. Ed laid down like the rest of them, but stayed awake until he heard Ron's obnoxious snoring. Then he stood, pulled on his red cloak, and silently snuck downstairs into the common room. Settling in front of the fire, he cracked his knuckles and got to work, muffling the noise he made with a well-placed Silencio charm.

When Ed awoke the next morning, he lay there for a couple of moments, enjoying the blissful sensation of lying in a warm, comfortable bed while the cold air tried and failed to slip past his blanket defenses.

Then his aching hand (his hand had been getting injured a lot lately, and he was starting to worry that he might have to get yet another automail limb) reminded him of his pain, and with a groan, he tossed off his blankets, wishing Hermione was still here so he could bother her until she helped him with his hand. Again.

"G'morning," Ron greeted cheerfully, already digging through a good-sized pile of colorful packages at the foot of his bed. Ed blinked, wondering why he didn't have the sense to close his curtains when he finally crawled into bed.

"Morning," he said belatedly, swinging his socked feet over the edge of the bed. He stood up, glancing at Harry as the raven-haired boy also bade him good morning. He was holding a crudely carved wooden flute. Ed assumed it was from Hagrid, since on the rare occasions he went to visit the gamekeeper, he would be whittling away on a piece of wood with a content expression on his face.

Ed turned to the bottom of his own bed, pleasantly surprised when he saw a pile of presents, just a bit bigger than Harry's.

"Aren't I popular?" he said, only half joking as he picked up the one on the top. He was about to rip open the brown wrapped present, only to stop when he heard Harry's sardonic snort.

"That was friendly of them," Harry was saying, Ron eyeing with fascination whatever he held in his hand.

"Weird!" Ron said, lifting the circular thing from Harry's hand. "This is money?"

"You can have it," Harry laughed. Ed stood, abandoning his own presents to look at the odd coin with Ron.

"It looks a bit like the money back home," Ed commented, "only a lot more sophisticated." Ron tucked the coin in his pocket, shooing Ed back to his presents. With a grumble, Ed picked up the first parcel again. He tore it open easily, and out fell a roughly carved wooden owl onto his bed. He picked it up, curious, and turned it around in his hand. It was small, about the size of his palm. It reminded him a bit of his own flesh and blood owl, who he still hadn't given a name.

"Hagrid's a pretty nice guy," he said, smiling as he put the owl on his bedside table. Harry nodded in agreement, happily picking up the next present in his pile. Ed mirrored him, lifting up a lumpy one that felt squishy in his hands. He tore it open.

Inside was a box of Mrs. Weasley's homemade fudge, which was one of the only things Ed tolerated that had milk in it. He put it on his pillow for later. The other part of the present was what really impressed him, though.

It was a black, hand-knitted sweater. It was soft to the touch, and emblazoned on the back was the red Flamel that he wore all the time. (He considered removing it from his clothes, since everyone around him seemed to be particularly observant people and would undoubtedly question him on the meaning behind the symbol sooner or later.)

Smiling again, he closed the curtains around his bed and shook off the shirt he had worn yesterday. He slipped on the sweater. It fit perfectly.

Pushing open the curtains, he found Harry wearing a similar sweater, though his was an emerald green that matched his eyes very nicely.

Ed picked up his next present. When he unwrapped it, he gave a pleased grin. Hermione had sent him a copy of Theories of the Origin of Magic, along with a large box of Dark Chocolate Frogs. It was considered a rare book, and he was surprised Hermione managed to get her hands on it. He tucked it into his bedside table to read later.

The next present was, surprisingly, from Ron. It was the red and black Wizard's Chess set. Ed raised an eyebrow at Ron, who shrugged.

"Couldn't think of anything else to give you," he said plainly. "Besides, Fred n' George got me a new one." He held up a black and white set with a small grin. Ed grinned back, placing his own carefully under his bed.

The next was from Harry. He picked up the small package. It was a lot heavier than it looked.

"Wow, a box of rocks. Thanks, Harry," he said, tearing the green wrapping paper off of the parcel. Harry looked up from where he had been ripping open a present wrapped in scarlet paper.

"Oh, it's not rocks," he said slyly. Ed paused just before opening the box, stared suspiciously at the raven-haired boy, and slightly pulled away from the present.

"It isn't going to explode, right?" he demanded. "'Cause I've had enough of explosions."

"No, it won't," Harry reassured, though he wasn't being very convincing with his failed attempt at stifling his giggles. At Ed's flat look, he shrugged. "I promise?"

"Sure you do, Harry." Ed finally opened the box, leaning away from it a split second later. When nothing blew up, he leaned forward and peeked inside.

It was a brand new broom maintenance kit, complete with an instructions manual and twig clippers. It was everything he needed to take care of his broom, even if he didn't feel the need to. When he thought of how much it must have cost, Ed looked up with wide eyes.

"This must have cost a lot, didn't it?" he asked, raising the kit up for Harry to see. The other boy lifted his shoulders in a short shrug.

"Not really," he replied. "I'm kind of... rich in the wizarding world, I guess." He mumbled the last part, glancing over at Ron, who was happily eating the box of Every Flavor Beans Hermione had sent him. Luckily, the Weasley hadn't heard him, and Harry sighed before going back to his own present.

"Huh. Someone got me a picture."

"A picture?" Ron pushed his way over to Harry and peered over his shoulder. It was a picture of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville sitting together in the common room, with Ed halfway off of the picture. He was struggling to stay out of sight, while Ron tried to wrestle him back in view in front of the fire. Harry was laughing at them, while Neville was just nervously smiling, eyes flicking from the scuffle to the people looking at the photo. Hermione was sitting in one of the squishy armchairs with a thick book in her lap, trying and failing to ignore the four boys, though she had a content smile on her face. Harry was leaning against the chair, not bothering to stop his laughter.

Even as they watched, Ed was scrabbling at Ron's hand, trying to get the redhead to release the hood of his cloak. But Ron was having none of it, putting his feet on the frame and pulling with all his might. Ed still resisted.

With a sigh, Harry placed it on his bedside table. Even if it didn't have a name, he knew who sent it to him.

He cast the blond in the room a grateful smile, but it went unseen as Ed warily opened an obnoxiously decorated wooden box with two dozen multicolored bows that was obviously from the twins. Like Harry's, it remained perfectly in one piece besides his caution. When he looked inside, it held a large amount of the twins' "special" candy. With a wide smile, he placed the box at the foot of his bed and alchemized it shut. He didn't want anyone getting into his stuff.

Since that was the last of his presents, he flopped onto his bed with a sigh, feeling oddly satisfied. Ron, who had thrown a maroon-colored sweater off to the side, was showing off a small wooden figure of himself, with very intricate details and movable arms and legs. Ed had spent a painstakingly long time getting the thing to look just right, completely aware of Ron's egotistic problems.

He turned his head to watch Harry, who had lifted up his last present as well. He hefted it once, looking surprised at the weight, before he unwrapped it carefully.

After only the first two tears, something silvery grey and almost fluid-like slithered out and puddled on the floor. There it lay in gleaming, enticing folds, almost looking as if someone had captured a ray of moonlight and made it into a solid.

Ron gasped, and with a clatter, dropped his box of Every Flavor Beans. They spilled all over the floor, and Ed lifted his foot from the floor and out of the way of a suspiciously white-colored bean that skidded towards him.

"I've heard of those," Ron said, voice hushed as he pointed at the solid puddle. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, really valuable, and really expensive."

"Yes, please continue to describe it in an annoyingly vague manner," Ed drawled, sitting up. "I'm fascinated." Ron shot him a small glare, but quickly turned his eyes back as Harry picked up the object, curiously rubbing it between his fingers.

"What is it?"

"It's an invisibility cloak," Ron finally revealed, voice filled with awe. "I'm almost sure it is. Try it on. We'll see." Harry did so, swinging the cloak over his shoulders. Ron gave a startled step backwards, narrowly avoiding stepping on his present from Hermione. Ed himself had sat up a bit straighter, expression quickly going unreadable as he tried to explain the phenomenon before him in his head. It wasn't working all that well.

From his shoulders down, Harry had completely disappeared, with only his head left floating in midair.

"It is! Look!" Ron yelped, looking as if he might faint. Harry looked down at himself, and the surprise showed in his eyes when he didn't see his feet like he was supposed to.

"Blimey," seemed to be the only way he could sum up his situation. He patted himself down, as if assuring himself that yes, he was still there, just unable to be seen. Ed stood from his bed and walked over, one hand going to his chin in what Al jokingly called his "thinking pose". He put his hand out where Harry's shoulder should have been, and it met solidly with Harry, the silky cloth shimmering under his fingers.

"I give up," he suddenly cried, throwing his hands in the air. "Magic is completely and utterly out of my league." He turned and marched to his bed before violently throwing himself on top of it, completely disregarding the fact that he kicked a small piece of paper halfway across the room as he did so. Harry finally let the cloak drop from his shoulders as he chased the paper, snatching it up before it could sneak under Neville's bed. Ron picked the cloak up from the ground, admiring it with wide eyes and a gaping mouth while Harry opened the letter. It had narrow, loopy writing that was borderline cursive.

It read; Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very merry Christmas to you.

There wasn't a signature, but Harry looked for one anyways. He almost didn't hear when Ron started talking.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything." He looked over at Harry, eyes shining, only to frown in concern. "Hey, what's the matter? Don't you like it?"

"It's nothing," Harry dismissed, though his eyes stung and his throat began to tighten. Who sent the cloak? Had it really belonged to his father?

He barely had enough time to take the cloak from Ron and stuff it in his trunk before the door exploded inwards. He cast a glance at Ed, but the blond shrugged, insisting that he had nothing to do with it.

After a tense moment, the twins bounded in, arms thrown around each other. Both were wearing royal blue sweaters, but one had a yellow "F" branded on it, and the other a "G".

"Merry Christmas!" they bellowed together, raising their arms in the air.

"Oh, look, Harry and Ed got Weasley sweaters!" Fred darted over to Ed and bent over, examining the symbol on the back. "It looks better than ours, though. You can tell who Mum's favorites are."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron? Put it on, they're lovely and warm!" Ron crossed his arms petulantly and glared at his sweater, sprawled across his bed sheets.

"I hate maroon," he grumbled, but when George pushed it towards him, he took it and pulled it over his head. His expression softened.

"You don't got a letter on yours," Fred observed. "I suppose she knows you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're Gred and Forge." Ed snorted, covering his mouth to stop any other noise from escaping. The twins grinned, glad they finally got someone to laugh when they used that age-old joke.

"What's all this noise?" Ed grimaced as Percy stuck his head in the room, another sweater thrown over his shoulder. Fred instantly seized it and held it like a particularly pleasing prize.

"P for Prefect!" he crowed. "You've got to put it on, Percy!"

"Even Harry got one!" George added, pointing to emphasize his point. Percy scowled and tried to escape before the twins could force it over his head.

"I don't want- ow!" He stopped to clutch his shin in pain. Ed whistled innocently as he withdrew his foot, and Fred and George took the chance to shove the sweater over Percy's head. His glasses went askew, barely balancing on the end of his nose as his arms were trapped, unable to force themselves through the sleeves.

"You're not sitting with the Prefects, either," Fred ordered, making sure Percy was firmly secured by the sweater. "Christmas is a time for family!" The twins marched Percy out of the room, and the first years followed them eagerly.

It was the best meal Ed had ever had, even outdoing the Halloween feast. All of the students from every house ended up gravitating towards one table, forgetting house rivalries for the moment to sit and enjoy themselves. The mounds of food could feed an army for months, and it continuously replenished itself. The party crackers were a new experience, and after Harry instructed him on how to pull it, it exploded with the sound of a cannon. Ironically, a blue military hat shot out of the end, along with a pair of brown ferrets that stole his chicken drumstick before disappearing. He tossed the hat onto his head with a bittersweet smirk.

After dinner, he, Harry, and Ron dumped their prizes into their dormitory. They included iridescent balloons that never popped, more Exploding Snap cards, and a green-and-white Wizard's Chess set that Harry claimed as his own. ("You both have got your own sets, so I should get my own, too," he had stated as he scraped up all the pieces, though it had been Ron that pulled the cracker.)

After that, the twins dragged everyone outside for a snowball fight. They pulled Ed to their side, declaring war on Percy, Harry, and Ron. Percy's side lost spectacularly, since Percy couldn't seem to stop himself as he threw himself in the way of every single snowball. The twins worked like a well-oiled machine, one making snowballs and the other firing them with deadly accuracy. Ed felt like he would have been an extra wheel, but they accepted him easily, and he stood right next to George and gleefully smacked Ron over and over with balls of snow.

Once they were finished, everyone was cold, wet, and tired. They trooped inside and gathered around the fire, where Harry, Ron, and Ed got into a free-for-all Wizard's Chess battle. Ed was the current reigning champion, but Ron was determined as he soundly kicked Harry's behind. Percy guiltily retreated, knowing it was his fault Harry lost so badly for trying to help.

"You think you can win, Ronniekins?" Ed taunted as he took the seat in front of Ron. He got no answer as Ron solemnly replaced his pieces. Rolling his eyes, Ed encouraged his pieces to put themselves back together and go to their proper positions.

It was a quick, furious battle, and not even the twins could keep up with their strategies. Ron had his pieces all over the place, trying to isolate the king and take him out. Ed, however, had created the perfect defense around his king and was systematically taking out all of Ron's pawns.

"Blimey, how are you so good at this?" Ron raged, watching helplessly as his queen was obliterated. Ed smiled grimly, sweeping the dust aside.

"Lots of experience," he said. "Defense is the best offence, they say. And that's checkmate."

"Woo! Eddie reigns supreme!" Fred cried, throwing his fists in the air.

"Don't call me Eddie," Ed muttered, casting Fred a poisonous glare.

"Nobody can stand up to the king!" George put in, slapping Ed's shoulder. "All hail the chess king!"

"Shut up," Ed muttered, though he began to grin brightly.

* * *

Only a few short hours later, they were full once again of cake, turkey sandwiches, and the last of the roasted goods they had saved. Too full and sleepy to do much, they simply watched Percy chase and holler at the twins for stealing his Prefect badge and holding it hostage. Every time they flashed by, the twins were wearing wide, matching mischievous smiles.

Though he knew the mystery of the cloak would probably bother Harry, Ed had no clue why the Boy Who Lived looked so troubled when they went to bed. Though he had never seen the note, so he didn't know the whole story. Ron fell asleep instantly, with no mysterious letters nagging him in the back of his consciousness. Ed lay awake, much like Harry, but his reasons were different. He simply wanted to revel in the warmth and happiness that washed over him, reliving the highlights of the day in his mind. He smiled contentedly, stretching his arms above his head before folding them on his stomach. Feeling perfectly comfortable, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

The shuffle of fabric roused him, however, and he opened his eyes again and peered out of his bed curtains. He didn't see anything, save for the slight ruffle of the curtains dangling around Harry's bed. Shrugging, he let his curtains fall closed again and laid back, determined to not let it bother him.

* * *

Harry received matching flat stares from both of his friends when he told them of his adventures the next morning. Ron looked particularly offended as he put his fork down, furiously chewing his sausages.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he complained around his food. "I would've gone with you!" Ed elbowed him, and he almost choked on his sausages. "Well, we would've gone with you."

"I dunno," Harry replied, though he knew why. He hadn't wanted to share his present quite yet. Ed gave him a look that said he knew all his secrets, and frankly, Harry found that unsettling.

"You're going again tonight, right?" When Harry didn't answer, Ed leaned closer, a threatening gleam in his eye. "Right?"

"Of course!" Harry spluttered. "You two are coming, then, right?"

"Yeah!" Ron raised his fork in the air. "I wanna see your parents!"

"I want to see your family, too, Ron." Harry grinned.

"You two sound like a dating couple," Ed groused to himself.

"Oh, you can see them anytime. Just come visit over the summer," Ron said dismissively before turning to Ed. "How 'bout you? What's your family like?" Ed paused, pancakes halfway to his mouth, and thought.

"Distant," he said finally. "We don't talk much." Ron looked displeased with the vague answer, but Harry decided to use that moment to begin describing his family with reverent detail. Neither of them had the heart to interrupt him. After all, it was pretty much his first time seeing them. It must have meant a lot to him.

* * *

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."

"Ed, you'll get us caught!"

"Oh, really? Well, tell bigfoot here that his elbow is very much not appreciated when it hits my side."

"I'm sorry, okay?! Maybe if you weren't so-!"

"Ron, shush!"

Ron fell silent with a sullen glare. Ed gave him a venomous glance before facing forward, resolutely putting one foot in front of the other.

"It's this way, I think," Harry whispered, turning a corner and nearly pulling the cloak off of Ed. He hurried to dive back under it after the first three inches of his booted feet began to show.

"Warn me next time you turn!" he hissed. Harry shrugged apologetically.

It took almost an hour of walking, and by that time, Ron was constantly moaning about the cold. Harry was frustrated and irritable, upset that he hadn't been able to find the room again.

"I was almost sure it was right here!" he exclaimed quietly, turning the corner. And, to their surprise, a door was sitting snugly in the middle of the hall as if it had always been there, though Ed was sure it had been a blank brick wall the last time they walked past it.

Harry eagerly pulled them inside, abandoning the cloak the second the door closed behind them. Ed trailed behind the others as they hurried towards the ornate golden mirror on the other side of the room. Harry stood in front of it first, drinking in the sight of himself and what was probably his parents around him before he stepped aside, allowing Ron to step in front of it.

"Go on, then, look at them!" Harry said, voice hushed with awe. Ron simply stood for a moment, admiring the view.

"Look at me!" Ron said in a very pleased tone. Harry leaned towards him, and so did Ed, but all he saw was Ron standing in his paisley pajamas.

"All I see is a goof in floral print," Ed stated, but Ron wasn't affected.

"I'm head boy! I'm wearing the badge Bill used to wear!" Ron was vibrating with happiness. "I'm holding the house cup, and the Quidditch cup - I'm Quidditch captain, too!" He looked away from the apparently splendid sight to beam at both of the boys to his right. "Do you think his mirror shows the future?" Ed snorted quietly in disbelief, but Harry frowned in thought.

"Couldn't be. My family's all dead. Let me look again." But Ron was reluctant to part with the pleasing image of himself.

"You had it to yourself all last night. Give me some time, would you?"

"You're only holding a couple of cups," Harry insisted. "I want to see my parents."

"But I-!"

"Oh, for Truth's sake. Move aside," Ed grumbled, shoving both of them to the side and shifting in place.

He went still.

"What do you see, Ed?" Ron peered over his shoulder, but was distracted by the image of himself. Harry only saw himself, his friends, and his parents. He gave Ed a questionable glance, but the blond wasn't looking at them. He only had eyes for the image on the mirror.

"Mom?" he murmured. "And Al?" He stepped towards it, automail hand lifting up to press against the glass. "What…?"

Trisha Elric stood there, hand on Ed's right shoulder, a soft smile on her face. Al, flesh and blood, stood on his other side with a very wide, toothy grin on his face, an orange kitten wrapped up in his arms. Winry was there as well, brandishing a wrench. Pinako was smoking her pipe a bit further away, and even Hohenheim stood behind them with that enigmatic smile he almost always had in the pictures Ed had seen of him. Den's tail wagged furiously as he bounded around all of them, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

"Ed, what's wrong? You're crying."

Ed's other hand came up and felt his cheek. It was damp with what he knew was tears. He wiped his face, stepping away from the mirror. His right arm fell limply against his side.

"It's nothing," he said gruffly. "You can look at it if you want." Ron was a bit too happy to jump in front of the mirror again, striking what he thought were heroic poses. Ed used the moment to his advantage and gave a small, choked sob, the image of his mother's face ingrained into his mind. Harry gave him a worried look, but Ed waved him off, backing even further away.

Only to freeze when he felt something press up against the back of his leg.

He stumbled and almost crushed whatever was behind him, but managed to grab onto one of the torches hanging from the wall and steadied himself. He looked down, and Mrs. Norris looked back up at him, purring as she rubbed against his ankles. He breathed a sigh of relief, bending down slightly to run his hand over her spine. She arched into his palm, purring so loud he could feel the vibrations run from her skinny body through his gloves.

He didn't know how long he stood there petting the cat, but he knew by the time Harry dragged him away whispering about how late it was, his back was sore from bending over for so long and he decided next time to just sit down like a sensible person.

* * *

Next time was a lot more eventful, however, and Ed never got the chance to sit down anyways. Ron had tried to dissuade the two from going (and his excuse was that it was cursed, but Ed knew Hermione had rubbed off on him a bit and he was afraid of getting caught) but Harry was adamant on seeing his parents again and Ed had a feeling that he needed to go along, too, though he couldn't explain why. He had stepped into the room after Harry, only to pause right past the door and look around, the cloak slipping off of both of them to puddle on the floor in indignant silver folds.

Harry made a beeline for the mirror and resolutely sat in front of it, eyes alight with wonder as he gazed at his long dead family. Ed peered around suspiciously, tugging at his gloves, when his eyes caught the slightest hint of distorted light. Before he even knew what was happening, he had flicked his wrist, causing his wand to slide out of his sleeve and into his hand. He pointed it at the flicker he had seen, lips drawn in a snarl.

"Whoever's there, show yourself!" he growled, slowly moving forward. Harry jumped to his feet, eyes wide as he whipped around. His eyes followed the direction of Ed's wand, but he only saw empty space. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. At least, until a section of the air seemed to ripple and fall away to reveal an old man with a long, well-groomed beard and half-moon spectacles resting on the end of his very long, crooked nose.

Ed relaxed instantly with a relieved sigh, tucking his wand back in his sleeve. Harry, however, still looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Dumbledore smiled serenely at the two, moving forward in a swish of midnight blue robes.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight, sir," Ed said with a small grin. Dumbledore shifted his attention to the blond with an amused eyebrow raised.

"As did I with you," he replied smoothly. "It is good that you are vigilant, though I would prefer that you did not point your wand at me with such malice."

"Sorry." Ed had the decency to look slightly sheepish. "Being away from home for so long is kind of putting me on edge."

"Professor Dumbledore!" It seemed Harry had found his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question. However, I already know the reason." Dumbledore pointedly turned towards the mirror. "You, like many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"Erised?" Ed repeated to himself. Harry turned to look at the mirror as well.

"I… didn't know it was called that, sir," Harry said quietly.

"Have you realized what it does by now?" Dumbledore stepped closer.

"It shows me my family," Harry said.

"And it showed your friend Ron as head boy. And your friend Edward, well, that's his own secret to do with as he pleases."

"How'd you know that?" Harry asked in wonder.

"As you experienced tonight, one does not need a cloak to become invisible." Dumbledore's eyes glittered. "Now, do you know what the Mirror shows us all?" Harry shook his head, while Ed's nose scrunched up in thought. His hand came up to grasp his chin.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror. That is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help at all?"

""I show not your face, but your heart's true desire"," Ed said quietly, eyes tracing the engraving all along the edge of the mirror. Dumbledore's face crinkled up into a smile.

"Yes, quite right, Edward," he praised. Then he turned to Harry. "You, who have never met your family, see them standing around you with loving gazes. Your friend Ron has always been overshadowed by his older brothers, and sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However," his voice was laced with sadness and disappointment, "this mirror will give us not knowledge nor truth. Strong, able men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen. Some have been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even remotely possible."

Both Harry and Ed were silent, soaking in his words with solemn expressions.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow. If you run across it again in your… untimely travels, you will be well prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live in the present. Remember that." Dumbledore straightened up to his full height, towering over the first years. "Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak to good use and head off to bed?" The boys nodded. Ed bent over to pick up the solid beam of moonlight and gave it to Harry, but before the raven-haired boy threw it over their heads, he hesitated.

"Sir - Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"

"You have just done so." Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, if you so desire."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Ed felt the sudden urge to slap the boy next to him.

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry stared in disbelief. Ed snorted in amusement.

"One can never have too many socks," Dumbledore elaborated. "Another Christmas has dwindled by, and I did not receive a single pair. People insist on giving me books and such things."

Ed eventually dragged Harry from the room, fully intent on scolding Harry for his blatantly rude question. But he paused when he caught sight of Harry's brooding expression, and with a sigh, let him be.

* * *

Harry had taken Dumbledore's words to heart and had firmly tucked his cloak into the bottom of his trunk. Forgetting about the mirror, however, seemed to be a much more difficult thing to obtain, as Ed had been woken multiple times in the night by Harry's insistent thrashing. He didn't have the heart to blame the kid, though, since he, too, had had dreams of his mother nearly every night since he looked into the Mirror of Erised.

Harry had confided in Ed about his dreams, since he knew the blond would sympathize with him rather than scold him like Hermione or smugly say he was right all along like Ron. Ed said nothing, but listened and nodded occasionally when Harry told him about the bright flashes of green light and the high-pitched laughter that rung in his ears at night.

Hermione had finally returned a day before term started, and was torn between the horror that Harry and Ed had been out of bed two nights in a row and disappointment that they hadn't thought to check the Restricted section of the library for the ever elusive Nicolas Flamel.

Ed had been intently studying the book Madam Pince had given him, but had yet to share his findings with his housemates. He was disturbed by some of the things he had found in the book, and didn't quite want to hear his friends' reactions to what his father had done while in the world of magic. Even if he, too, hated the man with all his being, he didn't think he'd enjoy hearing someone bad mouthing a member of his family, no matter how much be deserved it.

The thought of studying brought him to the reason he hardly had time to study anyways, and it brought a grimace to his face.

Oliver Wood had been working the team harder than ever with their upcoming match against the Hufflepuffs. Though Ed scowled at the rain and had to continuously cast rain-repelling spells on his clothes, he sided with Wood. The Weasley twins were complaining that Ed was becoming a miniature Wood, saying he was almost as adamant about winning as the Quidditch captain was. Ed responded by knocking them off their brooms.

During one particularly wet practice that had Ed soaring high above the muddy ground in a desperate attempt to keep his robes clean, Wood delivered a bit of bad news to the team. He had gotten very upset with the twins, who were fooling around and flinging bits of mud at the team and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"Would you two stop messing around?" he hollered angrily. "That's exactly what will lose us the next match! Snape's refereeing next time, and he'll take any excuse to knock points off our team!"

George really did fall off of his broom this time, and Ed flitted away from the spatter of mud that rose to greet him.

"Snape's refereeing?" George spluttered, face smeared with mud. "When did that old vampire start volunteering for refereeing Quidditch matches? He's not going to be fair if there's a chance we might overtake Slytherin!"

The rest of the team began to complain as well.

"It's not my fault," snapped Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play an extra clean game so Snape doesn't get an excuse to pick on us."

The team reluctantly agreed and jumped back into the air, shaking the mud off of their boots.

* * *

Ed leisurely strolled back to the common room after practice, not really planning on telling his friends of Snape's new career. In fact, when he walked in on Ron and Hermione playing chess, he flawlessly inserted himself into the conversation and a nearby seat and began to instruct Hermione on where to put her pieces. He had no clue how someone as smart as her could be losing so spectacularly against someone like Ron, but he managed to get her to make a comeback, knocking out half of Ron's pieces before her king finally submit.

"Blimey, why don't you ever help me like that?" Harry said with a frown. Ed shrugged.

"Maybe because Hermione is a better friend than you," he suggested, nudging Hermione with his shoulder. "She understands me and appreciates fine literature. Unlike you two featherheads, who can only talk about Quidditch."

"My head is not made of feathers!" Ron protested vehemently. Ed opened his mouth, ready to make a snarky comment, when the common room gained one extra member. Neville toppled through the portrait hole, landing clumsily on his back. His legs were stuck together, and he was panting heavily. Ed had a sudden vision of Neville bouncing around the room like an oversized rabbit and snorted.

Even as the rest of the room laughed, Hermione stood and quickly executed the countercurse. Ed stood as well, helping the shaken boy get to his feet.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, leading the way back to their seats. Neville swallowed as he lowered himself into a seat, gingerly rubbing his knees.

"Malfoy," he muttered. "I found him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice on."

"Go tell McGonagall!" Ron insisted, hands going to his knees as he leaned forward. "Report him! McGonagall doesn't take anything from anyone!"

"I don't want more trouble," Neville said quietly, shaking his head.

"You've got to start standing up for yourself, Neville!" Hermione said. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down for him and make it easier."

"You don't need to tell me I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor," Neville choked out. "Malfoy's already done that." Ed patted his knee sympathetically, even as Harry pulled out a Chocolate Frog and handed it to the trembling Gryffindor. Neville looked like he would cry as he took it into his hands.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said sternly. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, right? And where did Malfoy go? To stinking Slytherin." Ed raised an approving eyebrow at Harry's choice of words. Neville gave a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Harry… I think I'll go to bed…" He stood, before pausing and fishing the card out of the wrapper. "D'you want the card? You collect them, don't you?" He gave the card to Harry, then tottered away, still sniffling as he bit off the head of the frog. Harry looked down at the card.

"Dumbledore again," he said. "He was the first one I ever got." He flipped it over to read the back. Ed felt his heart drop into his stomach as Harry gasped, eyes going wide behind his wire-framed glasses.

"I've found him!" he said, voice suddenly hushed. "I found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name before! I read it on the train coming here! Listen to this: "Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and-!"

"His work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel," Ed finished tiredly, leaning back and closing his eyes. He felt the three pairs of eyes on him, questioning and confused, but he stayed silent until Ron spoke.

"Ed, did you… already know who Flamel was?" he asked quietly. Ed nodded slowly, bringing up a hand to rub his face.

"He's… a pretty famous guy back where I live," he explained vaguely. "I didn't know he was a wizard up until a few days ago, though. I wanted to research him more before you guys found out, but," he gestured to the card, "whatever. Surprise."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione sounded genuinely hurt as she took the card, reading over the back herself before staring at Ed. The blond avoided her eyes.

"Flamel is… he's… not a good person," he said flatly. "He abandoned his family and didn't return after his wife got sick and died, leaving his two sons without any parents to call their own." His lip curled with disdain, and he lurched suddenly to his feet. "Look, I'm going to go to bed. I'll tell you more tomorrow." He ambled up the stairs. Once his back was out of sight, Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared suspicious and curious glances.

"Reckon he knew the guy," Ron whispered. "He sounded like he knew what he was talking about."

"But why didn't he tell us?" Harry said, frowning in thought. "We're his friends, right?"

"He said that Flamel wasn't a good person," Hermione interjected. "Do you think… do you think Flamel might be his dad?"

"Where did that come from?" Ron made a face. "Just 'cause he acted like he knew the guy doesn't make them related."

"Think about it," Hermione urged. "Edward obviously dislikes Flamel a lot, and he said that he left his wife and two sons behind. Didn't Edward mention that he had a brother? And I've never seen him get a letter from his mother. So maybe…"

"Maybe we shouldn't bother him about it," Harry said, beginning to feel uncomfortable. He knew what it was like to not have parents, and to suddenly learn that one of his friends may have gone through the same thing put him on edge. "I'm kind of tired. Besides, Ed said he'd tell us tomorrow."

Hermione looked dubious, but she agreed that it was late, and they all headed for bed. Harry looked upon Ed's closed curtains thoughtfully before he closed his own.

His dreams revolved heavily around two silhouettes that he felt an irresistible attraction to, though no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't seem to touch them and ask them who they were.

* * *

 _ **Here's chapter three, everyone! I know it's *tries to count the amount of months and gives up* a lot of months late, but hey, at least I got it done! Yay me!**_

 _ **Word count for this chapter: 15,977**_

 _ **Total word count: 49,256**_

 _ **I'm making my way there! Slowly, but surely!**_

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 ** _I think that was everyone! Thank you all for sticking around! Au revoir, my frens!_**

 ** _Next chapter: Things and stuff happen. Oh yeah, Quirrell finally gets that stick out of his arse. Or, in this case, the snake out of his head._**


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